Prefect Perspectives
by Nate Grey
Summary: Four lover-ly tales of Prefect Harry in a different House, each from the perspective of a female counterpart. Because if Harry truly does have courage, a decent mind, talent, and a thirst to prove himself, of course he'd use it all to get a girlfriend.
1. The Patil Puzzle

Notes: Not originally intended to be an April Fool's joke, but suddenly I decided it was funny, how much effort I had been putting into it, and thought it deserved to be a joke. Or at least a game I was playing by myself.

Summary: Four lover-ly tales of Prefect Harry, each from the perspective of a female counterpart. Because if Harry truly does have courage, a decent mind, talent, and a thirst to prove himself, of course he'd use it all to get a girlfriend.

 _Time to play Prefect Potter Shuffle. Rules: Harry must be a prefect, paired with a female prefect, romantically or otherwise. Hermione can't be in the same House as Harry. 10 points for each unique House that Harry is in. 20 points each time Hermione is anywhere other than Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. 30 points if friendship melts a Slytherin heart. Individual bonuses may apply._

* * *

 **Prefect Perspectives**

 **A Harry Prefect Fanfic by**

 **Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **POV 1: The Patil Puzzle**

* * *

Padma Patil leaned back in her chair, only allowing herself to relax ever so slightly as the other prefects gradually began to drift out of the room. It never failed: of the twenty-four or so that were required to attend, less than half bothered to linger and socialize. On one hand, she didn't blame them: it was late, few looked forward to these meetings, and she could name a host of other things she'd rather be doing. On the other hand, this was one of those less fun jobs that came with the badge, and she wasn't about to trade it in for anything.

Shaking her head, Padma glanced to her immediate left, where Hermione Granger was carefully gathering up her things. Not wanting to startle her, as that had happened more than a few times, Padma waited for Hermione to realize that she was being watched. Thankfully, Hermione did not jump or squeak, this time.

"Got the minutes for tonight, Hermione?" Padma asked, already knowing the answer. Padma never needed to ask, and Hermione never really needed to be asked.

Hermione immediately passed over the requested parchment.

"Thanks, sweetie," Padma said, giving her a fond smile.

Hermione blushed and quickly turned away.

Padma continued to smile, until she caught Neville Longbottom frowning at her, and then let it fade. "Have a good night, you two."

Neville didn't respond as he turned to leave, but Hermione, submissive as always, quickly nodded and hurried after him.

Not for the first time, Padma marveled at the transformation. She was one of the few that still remembered when Hermione had been a bossy know-it-all. That had lasted maybe a few minutes, until Draco Malfoy and his thugs cornered her on the Hogwarts Express and made it very clear what supposedly all of Hogwarts thought of "mouthy little Mudbloods" who didn't know their place.

By the time the Sorting Hat landed on Hermione's head, the damage had been done, and the only thing she cared about was never standing out again. So it had put her in Hufflepuff. Oddly enough, Hermione was still a standout there: prefect for three years, best marks in her house in decades, and so many wondering why she hadn't been in Ravenclaw. But Padma knew. In Ravenclaw, Hermione would have been celebrated as the best of them, against her wishes. But in Hufflepuff, her pleas to be invisible were accepted. Quiet pride, that's what they embraced her with. Every Hufflepuff knew Hermione's name, but they said it in whispers. Just like Hermione did.

And Neville, never her boyfriend, always her protector. He had been a slow bloomer, but with Hermione's patience and tutoring, he had eventually blossomed into the closest any male Hufflepuff in their year would ever get to being her equal. It wasn't just the much improved marks. Between the duelling club and playing Keeper at Quidditch, Neville had lost a considerable amount of roundness, and replaced it with muscle. Even Gregory Goyle had been known to flinch away from him at times, and if Goyle had sense enough to do that, it had to be obvious to everyone: Neville was ripped. Slow to trust, however, and with good reason, but Padma liked to think that she, above all others, would have gotten a free pass.

Although she understood exactly why Neville might be wary of her in particular where Hermione was concerned. But Padma honestly did like Hermione. Hermione was one of the few who actually seemed to like prefect meetings, or at least taking notes during them. Padma could always count on her to record the minutes exactly and write up detailed summaries of everything that had been discussed. Malfoy still sneered and muttered from across the room, but even he didn't have the guts to blatantly insult Hermione in such a gathering. And he certainly wasn't going to risk Neville thrashing him, if for no other reason than every Slytherin present knew better than to set that particular firework ablaze. Neville would gladly get expelled in defense of Hermione's honor, no matter how much she would have wished otherwise. And if that was going to be the result, anyway, he'd make sure that the crime was good and worth it.

Unfortunately, the only other people who were slow to leave were the ones that Padma really wished had left first: Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson, and Padma's twin sister, Parvati.

Harry was again leaning against a wall, and Pansy was again directly in his face, looking as if she wanted very much to devour his lips, followed by his entire head, if she could. And Parvati was again looking disgusted and jealous and heartsick all at the same time.

Everyone knew that Parvati was madly in love with Harry. But Harry, for reasons best known to himself, insisted on them remaining friends. Which would not have been so hurtful, except for the fact that Harry, while very much a free agent, was actively encouraging repeated amorous encounters with Pansy, and she needed no encouragement from him at all. Which made the fact that she was getting it even more sickening.

Pansy did not love or even like Harry. She liked his status, his fame. Harry was not stupid, he had to know this, and even if he didn't, every last Gryffindor must have told him by now. Including even the most cowardly of first years, certain that Pansy had bewitched Harry with a dark potion. This was a distinct possibility, as Pansy had earned her decent Potions marks. Yet, anyone who knew anything about Severus Snape, knew that if he discovered a student that hoped to seduce Harry Potter through skills they had sharpened in Potions, expulsion would be too kind a punishment in Snape's eyes. For the offender, and for Harry, for inspiring the crime in the first place. And despite her numerous faults, Pansy was not quite that stupid.

Unfortunately, Parvati had elected to take the phenomenally more stupid and ineffective route of pining for Harry from afar. As well as from right next to him, since, as the seventh year Gryffindor prefects, they sat side by side at meetings. Even Ginny Weasley, who sat behind Parvati, had never appeared quite as lovesick for Harry. Although, in Ginny's defense, Harry's ignoring her had been because he was preoccupied, not because he was purposely ignoring her, like he was with Parvati. And now that Ginny was dating, quite happily, word was that she and Harry got on just fine. Parvati tried the the same tactic, but it only resulted in several disgruntled boys who did not like being constantly compared to Harry. Especially since they never came out on the winning side of the comparisons.

All of this would have been slightly more bearable to witness, if only Parvati were not so very obvious in her feelings. But no, Padma was "the smart twin" and Parvati was "the pretty twin"... which did not mean that Padma was not pretty, or that Parvati was not smart... but it was heavily implied all the same. And honestly, Padma, who currently lacked a significant other, did not feel very pretty at the moment, and there was no way in hell that Parvati could possibly feel smart just now, either.

Padma narrowed her eyes, and Parvati jumped slightly as she felt the familiar but unexpected brush of her twin's magic against her own.

"Don't do this to yourself, Parvati. It's torture just watching you, so I know it's twice as bad for you."

Padma had gained special permission from Professor Flitwick to train in Legilimency, hoping it would bring her and Parvati even closer. What she found, however, was that her Legilimency was completely ineffective on someone she'd shared a womb with. Instead, she could easily and clearly project her own thoughts into Parvati's mind, which allowed for a brand of "twinspeak" that people joked about, but in this case, it was entirely real and magic-based. Parvati was not quite as proficient in it, but the desire to hold unspoken conversations with her twin had driven her like few other things could, and she was improving faster than Padma ever could have hoped.

"That's easy for you to say, Padma. Harry isn't ignoring you!"

Padma smiled indulgently.

"I think even famous Harry Potter would have a tough time ignoring the Head Girl, Parvati. But I can't force him to talk to you. And you're missing the point. You, sitting there, watching him flirt with that cow, isn't helping anyone but Pansy."

"But if I try to interrupt, Harry will just tell me that I'm being a pest!"

Padma frowned.

"Did he use that exact word?"

"Yes!"

"On second thought, I think I will make him talk to you."

"No, Padma! If Harry thinks you're fighting my battles for me-!"

"Then he'd be absolutely right. This time, and this time only. Nobody calls you a pest but me, and I've more than earned that right. He hasn't. Especially not if he thinks chasing after Pansy Parkinson is a good idea. He could at least be smitten with someone tasteful. It's awful of me to say, but if he were making eyes at your best friend instead, that would be a huge improvement."

Even Parvati could not deny that much. And at least Lavender Brown would be open to sharing Harry. Although that probably had less to do with Harry being involved, and more to do with Parvati being involved. Padma was almost certain that if Lavender woke up one morning and unexpectedly found herself twisted up in bedsheets with Parvati and Harry, her only real complaint would be that she could not recall the wondrous sequence of events that led up to such a happy accident.

"Padma, please! Don't say anything to him!"

Padma gave her twin a cold look.

"If he truthfully prefers Pansy to you, Parvati, he's lucky if talking is the only thing that I do to him."

Parvati watched in growing despair as Padma crossed the room and stood rather close to Pansy, something no one present enjoyed.

"Clear off, Parkinson," Padma ordered, with more force than was needed. "I've got Head Girl business to discuss with Harry. You'll just have to carry out your... head girl business later."

Pansy turned bright red, but perhaps sensing she had nothing better to retort with, merely turned her nose up at Parvati and left the room. After a warning look from Padma, Parvati also reluctantly left, but with several backward glances at them.

Harry was not pleased. "You really shouldn't have done that, Padma."

"You really should have better taste, Harry. I don't care how low your standards are, you can do better than her."

Harry frowned at her. "Did Parvati put you up to this?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Parvati isn't the only one disgusted by the sight of you two pawing at each other? I refuse to believe that this is the first time that someone has been brave enough to mention it to you."

"I didn't hear a no."

"Fine. No, Parvati did not put me up to this. She was very much against me talking to you, actually."

Harry looked surprised. "And why is that?"

Padma shrugged. "Because she thought you would still think that she did put me up to it."

"That's not what I think." Harry was frowning again. "Now I'm thinking that she still doesn't know."

"Doesn't know what?"

"What we both agreed that you would tell her months ago."

Padma frowned. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

"Oh, you're really going to play this game again, Padma?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "Okay, fine. I'll play along. I was thinking that Parvati might not want you to talk to me, because maybe you finally told her why I really won't date her. I was thinking that maybe Parvati wouldn't want you anywhere near me, if she knew what you promised you would tell her by now. I was thinking that you respected your twin sister enough to tell her the truth, rather than risk the truth leaking to her, incomplete and twisted, through the rumor mill. I was thinking you'd rather show her your knife before you stabbed her in the front, rather than let someone else stab her in the back with it."

"That's lovely imagery, Harry, really."

"Stop ignoring the issue, Padma. You haven't told her. We agreed that you would by now. You lied to me. You're still lying to her. Tell Parvati the truth, or I will."

"And what truth are you going to tell her?"

Harry glared at her. "I'm going to tell Parvati that I can't date her, because I can't get her sister out of my head. I'm going to tell her that I fear the day that I'll whisper your name in her ear. I'm going to tell her that I've been hopelessly in love with you from the moment she let me dance with you at the Yule Ball. And I'm definitely going to tell her that the biggest reason is because nobody has shared my bed since you left it, and I know it's the same for you, and it's not just because we were each the first to claim that particular honor."

"Sleeping with you is an honor, now, is it? You certainly think highly of yourself, Harry."

"If I think highly of anything, I think it of the fact that I was honored to be your first, Padma. And I was honored to have you be mine. Even and especially if you don't feel the same, it doesn't change how I feel. And it doesn't change that Parvati doesn't know, and she deserves to. Especially if she's going through hell and blaming me and Pansy for it."

"So you're so in love with me that you have to settle for Pansy Parkinson?!"

"No, I'm settling for Pansy because she's got influence. Slytherin boys who see me as her property aren't going to stab me in the back. Slytherin girls who see her claws in me will keep theirs away from me, mostly. If I have to appear interested in Pansy to make that happen, so be it. I can stop the second I graduate. Which solves one of my problems, and none of yours, Padma. Just tell Parvati the truth. Or do you want her to continue believing that I prefer Pansy to her? That can't be good her self-esteem."  
"Harry, you don't have any siblings! They don't just forgive things like this!"

"All the more reason not to hide it from Parvati for as long as you have. If you're really afraid that she'll hate you, I'll tell her that I seduced you."

Padma snorted. "Parvati would never believe that."

"Why not? She's in love with me. Why couldn't you also find me irresistible?"

"Because I obviously don't."

"Anymore," Harry added softly.

Padma glared at him.

"Padma, if you felt strongly enough to confront me about this, it must be killing Parvati. But me turning away Pansy isn't an option yet. Parvati finding out that I don't care for Pansy is. I don't care which of us tells her, but I do care about Parvati, even though I don't want to date her. She's a good friend, and I'm sure she's a good sister. So let me be clear: I'm all for telling Parvati the truth. Or whatever version of the truth eases her pain. But what I don't want is for things to stay as they are. And you clearly don't want that, either. So how do you suggest we fix things?"

"Do you truly love me?" Padma asked slowly.

"I do," Harry said simply.

"And are you a true Gryffindor?"

"Yes, but why ask that now?"

Padma looked away. "I have an idea. It's awful, but it will work. It will require some sacrifice on both our parts."

"And I assume it's more more complicated than, and yet still in no way involves, telling Parvati the truth."

She glared at him. "I seem to recall," she said softly, "something you told me at the Yule Ball."

Harry stared at her. "That I would follow your lead."

"You said the same thing when we-"

"Made love," Harry supplied.

Padma blushed. "Are you now saying that you won't follow my lead anymore?"

"What I'm saying is it seems to me like you're choosing a very roundabout way to hurt your sister even more."

She sniffed. "I wouldn't expect a Gryffindor to understand the machinations of a Ravenclaw. I just need to know if you'll do as I say."

"Who am I to refuse an order from my Head Girl?"

"I-I'm not your Head Girl, Harry. I'm everyone's Head Girl." Then she paused, realizing how wrong that might sound.

Harry grinned. "You keep telling yourself that, Padma."

* * *

Parvati frowned at her twin. "You want to do what?"

Padma leaned closer. "I want to give you an erotic dream of Harry."

Parvati's frown deepened. "Padma, I've told you: I already have those. They aren't helping. Just the opposite."

"This one will," Padma insisted. "Because it's manufactured, and reinforced with a Soothing Charm. I just need a few days to get it ready, and then I'll implant it in your head."

"And you don't think that'll be awkward, me walking around with a fake memory of the night I shagged Harry in my head? What if I try to recreate it?"

"He should be so lucky. And you'll still know it's fake, Parvati. The point is that it won't be a source of pain, like all your other thoughts of Harry are."

Parvati still looked doubtful. "You really think this will help me?"

"I really do." Padma squeezed her sister's hands. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course. And it's not that I doubt you can do it. I just... I don't know about this, Padma. It feels wrong. Like I'm betraying Harry somehow."

Padma shook her head. "When this works, you will be a lot more pleasant for Harry to be around. Don't you think he'd want that? You'll be able to accept his more... questionable tastes, because you'll at least have that one night. You'll know it's fake, but it won't feel fake."

* * *

Padma needed only two days to complete the false memory. Although what she actually needed was two days to edit the copy of the real memory. She was the only person who knew specific details of both Harry's and Parvati's nude bodies, so those changes were easy enough. Although, she did have to make sure that Harry's body included several "guesstimates" that were completely inaccurate. Too much accuracy in that area, if Parvati did ever manage to spend the night with Harry, would be telling.

No, the harder part was making sure the memory felt false. Because nothing about that night had felt false to Padma. And if too much of that authentic feeling leaked through to Parvati, that could be a disaster.

Padma's original (and quickly dismissed) thought had been to use a Pensieve and share it with Parvati, but all Parvati would need is to do a little research to learn the truth. The second she knew that a Pensieve was used to store memories, she might realize exactly how her sister just happened to have a ready-made memory of a Patil twin sleeping with Harry.

In two days, Padma had the false memory ready to implant. But it took closer to two weeks before she could finally bring herself to give it to Parvati. She told herself that she'd been checking it for flaws. And indeed, she had reviewed it many, many times. So it wasn't entirely a lie.

It just felt like one.

* * *

Parvati's friendship with Harry improved almost overnight. They could soon be seen together, laughing and talking like they used to. Pansy didn't like it, but Parvati was suddenly all too happy to clear off when Pansy wanted to be alone with Harry. If anything, the only one who suddenly seemed somewhat bothered by that was Harry.

Padma's mood also improved considerably, now that she didn't have to worry so much about Parvati. Of course, Padma still didn't have a boyfriend, and would have even settled for a girlfriend, if it came to that. As Head Girl, Padma always got plenty of invites any time there was a social activity planned, so it wasn't as if she didn't have her pick of dates. It was just that they all seemed to lack anything that would hold her interest beyond that one night.

So it was more than a little humbling when, at the next dance, Padma found herself paired up with her date for the evening, one Lavender Brown, who seemed suspiciously thrilled to have any Patil on her arm. Padma supposed an overenthusiastic date like Lavender was better than an unenthusiastic one like Ron Weasley. Although Lavender had found an excuse to kiss Padma three times before they even cleared the entrance hall, and Padma would not have considered any of them chaste, nor would she have allowed anyone but Parvarti's best friend, or Parvati herself (or yes, even Harry) to get away with that much. But Lavender was a good dancer, clearly had experience dancing with girls, and confessed that she and Parvati had practiced with each other, so it wasn't even close to being awful.

And Padma found herself admitting, reluctantly, that while she was never going to be in love with Lavender, it was nice to have a fun date who both had Parvati's approval and was no danger to Padma's virtue. They made tentative plans to accompany each other during the next Hogsmeade weekend, and Padma insisted that she wouldn't mind if Parvati was their third wheel, then wished she hadn't, because that made them sound like a couple, which Lavender seemed to like even more. So with a final kiss that lingered a bit more than Padma would have preferred, Lavender practically floated back to Gryffindor Tower, and Padma went to bed wondering if the entire evening might very well be considered a wondrous sequence of events that resulted in a happy accident.

And in any case, she couldn't deny that she both was happy and felt like she'd just survived an accident.

* * *

The happy accident ended, rather abruptly, when Parvati and Lavender had a huge row, the cause of which was wholly mortifying only to the Patil twins.

Apparently, Lavender and Parvati had been practicing kissing each other, which in itself was not that unusual, and especially not for them. But things had gotten a bit spirited, and suddenly Lavender moaned a name that was not Parvati's, which would have even been acceptable, if only that name had not been Padma's.

Lavender was in tears constantly, although Padma often found herself wondering if the true reason for Lavender's upset was finding herself entirely Patil-less. In truth, Padma felt sorry for Lavender, and did not blame her in the least, but she also couldn't support anyone but Parvati in this fight.

Parvati was mad at Padma for a grand total of five hours. She remained a bit snippy around her twin after that, but Padma chose to overlook this. They both knew perfectly well that Parvati had been the one to suggest that Lavender be Padma's date in the first place, but there was nothing to be gained by pointing that out. Even so, Padma made it very plain that Lavender hadn't meant to hurt anyone, was clearly hurting worse than either of them, and that it would be a shame if Parvati lost her best friend over an innocent mistake.

It took almost a month for Parvati to admit the truth of those statements. Lavender was overjoyed to have her best friend back, but Parvati insisted that she find someone else to practice kissing with, and Padma now required that any time she spent with Lavender also included Parvati. If Lavender was disappointed with these arrangements, she never said so. Indeed, having both Patils on her arms might have been something out of her wildest fantasies... though Padma was sure the one about Lavender, Parvati, and Harry, was wilder still. But she didn't want to give Lavender any ideas.

* * *

"Well, that's everything," Padma said, looking out at the mostly eager faces. "I trust you all know your assignments for the Hogwarts Express. Please submit your recommendations for next year to your Head of House as soon as possible. As I may not get a chance to say this later, it's been a pleasure serving with all of you. Have a good summer, everyone."

She expected the applause, but not the bouquets of roses that everyone else in the room suddenly conjured in their respective house colors. Padma couldn't help noticing that Draco's green and silver roses were particularly more vibrant and fetching than Pansy's were, but wasn't sure whether to blame that on Pansy's intense dislike for her and shoddy spellwork, or Draco's usual flair for showing off. Possibly both.

Hermione quietly provided a large box to carry all the flowers in, obviously having known there would be a need for it in advance, and began to collect them while Padma said her farewells. There was a slightly tense moment when Draco handed his bouquet to Hermione, who hadn't been expecting it and froze. Neither of them moved for several seconds, and when Draco raised his wand, Padma was not the only one in the room who reached for hers. But Draco merely tapped the bouquet with his wand, instantly turning the flowers to Hufflepuff yellow and black. Then, with a nod to a startled Hermione, he walked out of the room. The tension (and Pansy) left with him.

Padma wasn't sure why she did it, but before Hermione had completely recovered, Padma pulled her into a tight hug.

"P-Padma?" Hermione squeaked. "W-What-?"

"You should have been Head Girl," Padma whispered against her ear.

Hermione froze. "N-No," she murmured. "I'm not-"

"You would have been," Padma insisted. "If he hadn't... if I had just... if you were..." She trailed off, then shook her head. "You would have been, Hermione, and I took advantage of the fact that you weren't, and I should have helped you, and I'm so sorry that I didn't, and you've been so good to me, and if I could have named you Assistant Head Girl I would have, but-"

"Padma, please don't," Hermione interrupted, finally returning the hug. "It's okay, really."

"No, it isn't!"

"I forgive you."

Padma drew back and stared at her. "You do? Why?"

Hermione smiled. "Does it matter why, so long as I do?"

"It matters to me! You've been overlooked enough!"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I didn't get everything that I wanted, but neither did you. And I don't know that I could have gone through what you did, and held it together the way you did. You're stronger than me, Padma. You deserved to be Head Girl, and that's why you were chosen. I was just happy to be in your shadow for a while, and I don't regret it. You're easy to hide behind, you know." She offered her hand to Padma. "It's been an honor."

Padma brushed the hand aside and hugged Hermione tightly again. "You'll stay in touch, won't you?"

"Of course," Hermione promised, hugging her back. Then she turned her head, pleasantly surprising Padma with a kiss to her cheek. "I know you might be a bit busy looking after the natural one, but if you ever wanted another sister-"

"If you are implying," Parvati said loudly, draping her arms around them both, "that I need looking after, Hermione, I'm afraid I'll have to take that personally."

Hermione stared at her, thoroughly embarrassed. "O-Oh, I didn't mean-"

Parvati grinned and tweaked Hermione's nose. "You've really got to lighten up if you're going to be one of us, darling. It's not easy being a triplet, believe me. A quiet little thing like you, Lavender will be all over you, and no one will be able to hear you scream."

Suddenly, all three of them were laughing so hard that they had tears in their eyes, and Padma wasn't sure that laughter was the entire source. But they eventually calmed down, and Parvati ran over to pounce on Ginny from behind as she was hugging Hannah Abbott.

"She's doing much better now," Hermione noted.

Padma nodded. "Yes, she is."

Hermione leaned in and lowered her voice. "Padma, I want to warn you. Parvati... she may not be as smart as you, but she's smarter than you realize."

Padma blinked. "What does that mean?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't betray one sister's confidence, not even to another."

Padma pouted. "But I'm the one you're more loyal to, right?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, but... Parvati trusted me, so I can't say. Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Only what you deserve."

Padma frowned as Hermione moved away. She had likely meant those words to be comforting, but they sounded rather ominous to Padma.

Parvati was just completing a ridiculously complicated secret handshake with Ginny that Padma doubted anyone else in the entire school knew (Lavender would be thoroughly jealous, no doubt). Then they hugged again, exchanged kisses, and said goodbye.

"You know, if we keep adopting girls, we're going to be sextuplets soon," Padma warned.

Parvati grinned. "Yes, but naturally, I'll still be the fairest of them all!"

"You wish. You cheat at Exploding Snap."

Parvati smacked her twin's arm. "That's not what I meant and you know it! Anyway, I forgot to tell you, I got an owl from home earlier. Dad says we're each welcome to invite a friend to stay during the summer. I think you should pick Hermione."

"And you're going to pick Lavender?" Padma guessed.

Parvati smirked. "You don't know me as well as you think you do, Head Girl."

* * *

Hermione's warning made a lot more sense when she stepped out of the fireplace at the Patil home. At least, it did when she was soon followed by Harry. Padma had a hard time getting the stunned look off of her face, and must not have been fast enough, because Parvati reached over to close Padma's mouth for her.

Padma shot her twin a sharp look that was cheerfully ignored.

"We're so glad you two could make it!" Parvati greeted, pulling Hermione and Harry into a big hug.

"So are we," Harry said, staring straight at Padma, who avoided his eyes and hugged Hermione once Parvati had released her.

"Told you so," Hermione murmured in Padma's ear.

"You could have been more specific!" Padma hissed back.

"This is what happens when your twin knows you've been lying to her for months," Hermione responded.

Padma gasped and looked at Parvati, who stared back innocently with her eyebrows raised. "Um, I need to talk to Parvati for a bit, make yourselves comfortable." Padma grabbed Parvati's arm and dragged her into the next room.

"It's a bit late, now," Parvati said at once.

Padma bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Yes!"

"For what?" Parvati demanded.

"Not telling you."

Parvati sighed. "Padma, you know what the worst thing is? If you had just told me that you and Harry were intimate once, I could have put two and two together. I would have suspected there were some feelings left there. So even if I still fell in love with him, I would have respected that you might not be done with him, or he with you, or that me dating him might just result in me being used as your substitute. But you didn't tell me. And now we're in this mess, and we don't have to be."

"Do you forgive me?" Padma whispered.

"Well, I have to, don't I? It's sort of obvious that we're related. People will talk if we don't get along. But I have a condition."

"Name it."

"In exchange for giving you my blessing to work things out with Harry, up to and including you two dating? I want the full, unedited memory of you and him."

Padma blushed. "Why?"

"Because it's an erotic dream, duh! Why else? And if I have to get over losing him to you, I'm going to need some real comfort. Also, I want to have a better idea of exactly what you two will be doing."

"Parvati!" Padma squealed.

Parvati grinned. "Maybe this will teach you not to lie to me anymore. Now, let's go get you re-Potted."

Padma glared at her twin. "That is not funny!"

"What would you know? I'm the funny twin."

"Funny-looking, maybe!"

"We're twins, we look the same!"

"You wish!"

They were still squabbling good-naturally when Harry and Hermione came to collect them five minutes later.

* * *

 **Patil Puzzle - Scores**

 **Unique House Harry: 10**

 **Odd House Hermione: 20**

 **Melty Slytherin: 0**

 **Twinspeak Bonus: 5**

 **Pansy Head Girl Joke Bonus: 500**

 **Secret Handshake Bonus: 5**

 **Individual Total: 540**

 **Overall Total: 540**


	2. Bulstrode's Best

Summary: Millicent Bulstrode never had friends, only like-minded associates. Then she met Harry Potter, who called her his friend before he even knew her name.

* * *

 **Prefect Perspectives**  
 **A Harry Prefect Fanfic by**  
 **Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **POV 2: Bulstrode's Best**

* * *

Millicent Bulstrode didn't have friends. What she had was like-minded associates from similar backgrounds, and that had always been enough. Her parents had taught her the power of being well-connected, knowing the right sort of people, and quietly being in touch with the wrong sort of people when times called for it.

Millicent met Pansy Parkinson when they were each around six years old. The moment their eyes met, they each understood their roles. Even without the introductions provided beforehand by their parents, they would have gravitated toward each other. The quality in both their clothing and upbringing would have made it so, no matter the circumstances. And so they were joined.

Pansy was a natural gossip, and used this to devastating effect on foes and "friends" alike. Neither of them had actual friends, of course. But Pansy had a gift for inserting herself into groups of popular kids and easily assuming the number two or three spot in the pecking order. Close enough to the top to make waves, but not so high where someone would feel the need to replace her.

Millicent, on the other hand, was simultaneously physically imposing and powerful, as well as a deep thinker, even if others rarely allowed her the chance to prove either. Pansy wasn't like them. She understood that her own talents were best suited to directing peer pressure, manipulating boys, or selecting the best bullying targets. But Millicent was better suited for force, either directly applied immediately, or gradually increasing over a long period until the target found they were boxed in and barely able to breathe. That was rarely necessary, since Pansy was so good at what she did, and of course she brought Millicent along for the ride. In the unusual event that Pansy did require some female muscle, there was no one she trusted more.

It would not exactly have been true to say that Millicent and Pansy liked each other. Certainly, they each appreciated the other's talents, and their families expected them to get along, so they did. Pansy did make Millicent's life much easier, but Millicent was not sure if she would have naturally desired a friend like Pansy. And she suspected the feeling was mutual.

But that was the beauty of it: they didn't have to be friends at all. They merely had to be useful to each other, and they were, extremely so. And this usefulness bred familiarity, if not friendship. They were comfortable around each other, even if their interests were vastly different and nearly opposite in many cases.

Millicent's first gift to Pansy: an overly expensive dress that Pansy had been wanting for some time.

Pansy's first gift to Millicent: a pair of highly adaptive enchanted gloves, which could change their thickness and size, depending on the owner's needs.

Both were pleased. Pansy judged gifts by their price tag. Millicent judged gifts by how much use she got out of them, since it was a direct indication of how well the giver knew her.

Perhaps what Millicent liked most about Pansy was that she was terribly easy to understand, and thus, predict. For Millicent, anyway, though someone less informed might mistake Pansy as being mercurial or excessively moody. When the two had disputes at all, they were generally forgotten by the time that Pansy had received whatever lavish gift Millicent sent her. And if Millicent was the upset one, then she generally only needed an hour alone to calm down and remind herself of the benefits of her continued association with Pansy.

Curiously, their dynamic changed only slightly when Draco Malfoy was introduced into it. There were no illusions: Draco then assumed the top spot, and Pansy was his second. Millicent, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle were the muscle. But as Millicent was accustomed to following Pansy's lead without complaint, and Crabbe and Goyle were used to following Malfoy, there wasn't all that much adjustment. Yes, they were boys, and neither Pansy nor Millicent had ever had any long term use for any boys, but given the particular background of these three boys, they were likely to remain associated for quite some time. Best to get used to them, Millicent decided, particularly when Pansy began doodling "Pansy Malfoy" in her notebooks. Nothing like that had ever happened outside of one of Pansy's schemes to control a boy, and this was clearly not one of them. Malfoy liked the attention, at least, but it was hard to tell more beyond that. And Crabbe and Goyle were just... there. And that thought required about as much attention as they did.

Millicent found Malfoy to have many of Pansy's same qualities, but somehow, in a far less attractive package. In point of fact, going by Pansy's own obsession with the boy, and comparing it against her own disinterest, Millicent wondered, for the first time, if she might just prefer girls. She preferred Pansy to her other associates, anyway. But she did appreciate that Malfoy wasn't stupid. He tried to order Millicent around only once when Pansy wasn't present. She had just stared at him, not in the colossally stupid way that Crabbe and Goyle did when they didn't understand something, but in the slightly homicidal way that Millicent reserved for those who had just crossed a line. Malfoy backed off immediately, and from then on phrased his orders as suggestions, delivered through Pansy. It required some extra effort on his part, but Millicent didn't care. He may have been Pansy's boss, but Pansy was the only boss Millicent had any plans to obey. She could trust Pansy to never demand anything that would be demeaning. But Malfoy, she could easily imagine ordering her to date Crabbe. In any case, she preferred Goyle, because he was easier to control. And Pansy would never ask Millicent to do that, because she wouldn't date either one.

* * *

When Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle left the compartment to roam the train, Pansy finally turned to Millicent. It was their first chance to speak in private since they'd boarded.

"Hey, Centi." Because Pansy always said that Millicent was worth a hundred of the girls they took down, only nobody but them knew it, so people tended to think the opposite.

"Hey, Panzer." Because Millicent always said that Pansy resembled nothing so much as a military vehicle when she was steamrolling her opponents.

They talked, for several minutes, the way they used to, before Malfoy had become a fixture in their lives.

Millicent had missed it: just the two of them. She could never say that out loud, Pansy either wouldn't know what to do with it, or would take it wrong. Or perhaps she would take it exactly right, because Millicent would be lying if she said she'd never thought of Pansy that way. There were prettier girls, but either they didn't meet her family's standards, or they just did nothing for Millicent. Or they just weren't Pansy.

Abruptly, their compartment door slid open and shut rather quickly, and suddenly the two girls found themselves staring at a boy who was very obviously Harry Potter, since the lightning-shaped scar on his sweaty forehead was in clear view, thanks to the way his hair was currently parted and rather windswept. He didn't seemed to be aware of it.

"Hi," he gasped. "I'm Harry, and I, um... need a place to hide out for a few minutes. Could I possibly, I mean, d'you mind if I-?"

"Have a seat," Pansy murmured as she stared at him, completely failing to keep the awe out of her tone.

Harry winced and, rather predictably, sat next to Millicent, in Goyle's former seat.

"Do you know who you are?" Pansy blurted out, unable to help herself.

Millicent barely resisted the urge to groan. Pansy wasn't stupid, but this was a horrible first impression by anyone's standards.

Harry glanced at Millicent, perhaps seeking help.

"I'm sure he does," Millicent murmured. "As does nearly everyone else on this train, most likely. Hence why he's trying to hide."

Harry gaped at her, somewhat like how Pansy was still gaping at him. "You said 'hence'," he noted. "I don't think I've ever actually heard anyone my age say that."

"And?" Millicent asked, the challenge in her tone clear.

Harry blinked. "And I think I like it. You. Whatever."

Pansy frowned. Millicent stared. Harry stared back, somewhat defiantly.

"You're alright, Potter," Millicent decided after a long moment.

"I should hope so. I would hate to think how much more people would be staring at me if I was sick all over myself on my first night at Hogwarts." Suddenly, he grinned, in a way that was unexpected, totally natural, and completely disarming. "And what is your surname, my interesting new friend?"

Now it was Millicent's turn to gape at him. He'd called her his friend. And interesting. People didn't do that. No one had ever done that. Not even Pansy, though she had at least implied something similar several times.

She was finally someone's friend.

She was Harry Freaking Potter's friend.

And nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

Millicent found out right away that Harry's scar was very appropriately shaped: he was a living lightning rod, and one of the most famous and polarizing figures in recent wizarding history. And there was rarely any in-between, people either loved or hated him for the most part. They just needed any tiny reason to justify their own feelings, whether it was true or not.

Being his friend, then, and especially his first friend, was not easy. Millicent was not easily intimidated, and she had both experienced and dealt out her share of bullying. But never before had she felt as if an entire school was watching her every move. Some of it was because Harry insisted on staying close to her, and it was hard to say whether it was more because she was the one he liked best, or because she was easy to hide behind.

And if Millicent thought the problems would ease because they were both Slytherins, she was dead wrong. The house itself was divided on Harry Potter. Regardless of personal feelings, every Slytherin was glad that no other house could claim him. But that only meant that as far as housemates went, Harry either had to tolerate people who cared nothing for him and only wanted a piece of his fame, or people who competed with him at every turn in hopes of either surpassing or outright destroying him. And it was not always so easy to tell which was which.

Malfoy was especially difficult to figure out. Like Pansy, he had come on a little strong, and while Harry had not outright rejected the offer of friendship from either, it was clear that he much preferred Millicent, to her slight embarrassment. Neither Malfoy nor Pansy liked that much, and so while they did not actively move against Millicent and Harry, much, they did little to support them. Which, in Slytherin, was just as good as shoving your mate into deep water and casually mentioning afterward that it was shark-infested. That only lasted a month or two, though. After which point, Malfoy entered a friendly but at times rough rivalry with Harry, and Pansy deigned to speak Millicent again, but there was now a frosty edge to her words that had never been directed at Millicent before.

It was no good pretending Harry wasn't the cause, and he apologized for it as much as Millicent would let him, which wasn't much. It wasn't his fault that Malfoy and Pansy were too immature to let go of their jealousy. If they had just been themselves around Harry, like she had been and was, instead of going overboard, odds were he would have liked them fine, or at least more than he did. Sure, it hurt somewhat that Pansy was no longer as cordial, but the fact was, she was no friend, and she was certainly no Harry.

Harry was straightforward and clever and funny. He liked her and wasn't shy about saying so, in private or public. Millicent had never realized how much a relationship could be enhanced by honesty and humor, but now she wondered how she'd managed so long without them. Pansy'd had her moments, but it was all mean-spirited stuff designed to hurt. Harry actually made Millicent giggle. She denied it immediately, of course, but he considered it a small victory that he had, and he would never let her forget it. And she didn't actually mind that, despite all protests to the contrary.

Because Harry was her friend. Her only friend, the more she thought about it. Her best friend.

And it was odd, because eventually, Harry managed to forge other friendships, sometimes in other Houses. And even though a prerequisite of being his friend was being cordial to Millicent, she did not consider any of those people her friends.

They weren't Harry. Nobody was. No one could compare. Harry had ruined her in the best way. Who could possibly top Harry Potter as her first friend? Nobody in Slytherin, and the pickings were even slimmer in other Houses.

But that was okay. There was only one Harry, and Millicent already had him.

* * *

"Millie, my darling, promise me that once we graduate, you'll marry me and give me three stern-faced, robust daughters just like you."

"Sod off, Potter."

"Ah, you know I love it when you tease me. Go on, give us a kiss."

"I swear that I will put you through that wall."

To the uninformed, that exchange might seem odd, but by now, every other prefect in the school knew that it was typical of the pair. Indeed, if anyone but Harry had dared to flirt with Millicent, putting them through a wall was probably the least damaging thing she would do to them.

Because other people didn't flirt with Millicent. For several reasons.

She would never accept it as being genuine, for one thing. She could remember, with startling clarity, the first time one of her father's associates had attempted to pay her a compliment, and finally settled on, "She's a handsome girl." Which was simultaneously the most truthful and insulting thing he could have said to a young girl, she thought. So Millicent had not stomped on his foot quite hard enough to break every bone in it.

She was not pretty, she knew. Strong and smart, but not pretty. And she would never put anyone in the position where they had to lie about such a thing. Even Harry had never seriously commented on her looks. If asked, his response was always the same: "I would never be ashamed to have you on my arm." Which was both true and practical, because the one thing Harry could always use was a bodyguard. Even so, Millicent had firmly refused all his invites to school dances. She was thick-skinned, but not deaf, and Harry was popular enough that he always found a date, and never had to wait long.

More to the point, Millicent didn't want anyone but Harry flirting with her. It was easier to imagine that he could see her that way, because she knew that he genuinely cared for her, as a friend. She would never need to worry about him falling in love with her, or her with him. Harry was her brother, and she liked it that way. One of her main sources of amusement was watching him chat up girls, using the advice that she or Pansy had given him. Unlike Malfoy, who would take everything he could get from a girl and move on, Harry never went beyond snogging and petting. And there was clearly a difference, because Harry remained on good terms with most of his girls, whereas Malfoy's conquests were more likely to curse him if they saw him coming.

It was one of the many differences in how they'd been raised, Millicent knew. Malfoy had been spoiled from the start, taught to believe that the world owed him everything, and if he could grasp it, then it was his for the taking. Harry had been raised without love, and so while he craved being physically affectionate, part of him still seemed to doubt that he deserved it. Millicent was not the touchy-feely type, but she tolerated Harry's hugs, hand-squeezing, and on rare occasions, cheek kisses. That he even wanted to share such things with her was strange enough, but that he would do so in plain view of others was an honor.

The only ones truly surprised when Millicent and Harry were selected as fifth-year prefects were Malfoy and Pansy, who had assumed it would be them. It easily could have been, being a prefect was as much about academic achievement as it was about ability to influence all houses. Malfoy's influence could never trump Harry's fame, which was substantial enough that Millicent was famous just for being Harry's friend. As for Pansy, well, Millicent only back-stabbed people who deserved it. That sort of thing got noticed, especially when Pansy was not as subtle or clever.

* * *

"It'll never happen," Millicent stated.

Harry smirked. "Oh, don't be jealous, Millie. We're inevitable, she and I."

"She's a Gryffindor. And a Weasley. Her brothers will kill you before you get anywhere near her. And then I'd have to kill them. At least if you're going to make me swear a vendetta, I want you to have died for something worthwhile."

He gave her a fond smile. "If only it had been you who stole my heart, fairest-"

Millicent glared at him. "Unless you think your redhead prefers the stench of my vomit on you, stop."

Harry chuckled, then grinned. "Ah! Watch and learn, my dearest. The game is afoot!"

Millicent rolled her eyes as Harry sprang into action... completely ignoring Ginny Weasley, who had just walked into the classroom designated for that evening's prefect meeting. Instead, Harry had eyes only for the bushy-haired, sixth year Ravenclaw girl at the next desk.

Hermione Granger admired and encouraged Harry's dream of openly dating a girl in another House. To the point where she was willing to act as Harry's current crush, in order to make Ginny insanely jealous. It wasn't real, of course. Millicent knew perfectly well that Hermione and Harry hadn't even kissed. But the one person who especially didn't know that was Ginny Weasley.

Apparently, Hermione was also making someone else jealous in the process, though Millicent had no idea who, and Harry wasn't telling.

The scheme, though Millicent thought it was nuts, at least looked devastatingly effective. Harry would flirt shamelessly with Hermione, find nonsensical reasons to touch her arm or stroke her hair. Hermione would blush and bat her eyelashes and all but melt under Harry's attention. Ginny seemed to be traveling between furious and heartbroken every few minutes. Millicent took time to marvel that, if Harry could be this manipulative of Ginny when they weren't even dating, she would be putty in his hands once they were actually together. She almost pitied the girl.

And she really envied Hermione, because Harry giving that sort of attention to Millicent wouldn't have worked on Ginny at all. Harry and Millicent were too obviously friends. Ginny either would have thought it sweet on his part, or sad that Millicent could only get that from Harry, and never seriously.

It was just a matter of time. Either Ginny would hope for Harry and Hermione to break up, or she would-

Millicent watched, equal parts amazed and amused, as Ginny schooled her features into a determined scowl, and marched across the room.

Harry did his best not to smirk as he glanced in Millicent's direction.

Millicent nodded as little as she could, conceding defeat, and sat back to watch her best friend work his magic.

* * *

 **Bulstrode's Best - Score**

 **Unique House Harry: 10**

 **Odd House Hermione: 0**

 **Melty Slytherin: 30**

 **Harry Freaking Potter Bonus: 5**

 **Slightly Homicidal Millie Bonus: 500**

 **Individual Total: 545**

 **Overall Total: 540 + 545 = 1085**


	3. The Agony of Abbott

Summary: While the Head Girl rules the school with an iron fist, Harry quietly tries to help a housemate with a personal problem.

* * *

 **Prefect Perspectives**  
 **A Harry Prefect Fanfic by**  
 **Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **POV 3: The Agony of Abbott**

* * *

The pair burst through the door exactly three minutes after the meeting had begun: faces red, covered in sweat, completely out of breath, and clothing askew.

Everyone in the room knew what they'd been up to. It was always obvious.

The Head Girl eyed them coldly. "That's the second time this week you've been late, Potter and Abbott. See me after the meeting." The hard tone of her voice made it very clear how that would go.

With two quick, fearful nods, they took their seats at the front, trying to ignore the whispering. They didn't have to try very hard: all whispering ceased once the Head Girl resumed her lecture, though with pointed glares at the latecomers throughout. That post-meeting appointment was seeming less and less inviting by the second.

But it was necessary, Hannah Abbott reminded herself with a grim expression, keeping her eyes trained on the Head Girl. It was all necessary to keep up appearances. Without that, everything would fall apart.

She felt Harry's fingers brush her arm, and shot him a grateful smile. If not for Harry, things would have been so much worse.

* * *

The trouble began, as Hannah recalled it, on that rainy November night in fourth year. She had been lying in the Hufflepuff common room, stuffed into a magically-enlarged sleeping bag with her best friend, Susan Bones. The nightmares had come back, as they did from time to time, and rather than risk their dormmates finding out and asking probing questions, this was the better option.

Hannah couldn't really understand, but wished she could... except she didn't. To understand, she also would have had to lose a large portion of her family to Voldemort's murderous reign of terror, and she wouldn't wish that on anyone. But it had happened to the Bones family, and Hannah, as Susan's best friend, was supposed to be able to offer more comfort than others.

Yet all she could really do was hug Susan, tell her that things wouldn't get any worse, and desperately hope it was true.

"At least you aren't Harry." Hannah actually said that. Harry, who was known far and wide as the Boy Who Lived, had only lost two parents, and yet his story was more talked about, because he'd managed a miracle, and never got a moment's peace about it. But Susan's family was just dead, and no one was praising her for it. More importantly, they weren't bothering her about it at all.

But sometimes, Susan wanted to be bothered. She wanted to know that her family had mattered to someone else. They had, of course: they were powerful, no doubt why they'd been targeted.

And Hannah, feeling more and more useless, could only agree with whatever Susan felt, and hope that was somehow enough.

Because the one thing that might have been more than enough, she was too afraid to admit out loud. But if it would help, if it would make Susan feel better, even for a moment, wasn't that worth it?

It was, Hannah decided in a rush. This would help. It could only help. Right?

She looked at poor Susan, who was staring dejectedly into the fireplace, probably thinking that no one understood or cared. Hannah put her hand on Susan's, and opened her mouth to say the words.

"Justin asked me out," Susan said dully.

Hannah froze, her mouth working in silence.

"I don't know what to do. He's sensible and nice enough, but I don't fancy him at all. I don't really want to date right now, but Auntie says I need to be realistic. The line could end with me, if we're not careful. I don't want that, to let the family die out." She paused, and then grasped Hannah's arm. "Tell me what to do," she pleaded.

Hannah stared at her. This was too huge. This wasn't the sort of thing you just dropped on a best friend with no warning. But Susan had, because... because she was counting on Hannah. There was really only one thing to say.

"It's just one date."

Susan blinked slowly, and hesitantly smiled. "Yeah. Just one. And if it doesn't work out, I tried."

"Right," Hannah agreed at once, feeling sick inside. "You've got to try. Justin will understand. No matter what, I'm sure you two will stay friends."

"This could all work out," Susan said, starting to hope again.

* * *

"He's WHAT?" Hannah shrieked two nights later.

Susan giggled. "That was exactly my reaction. But it's true. He proved it to me."

"How?" Hannah asked warily.

Susan giggled again. "Well, see, he's got these magazines..."

"And?"

"And, what do you think? I said he proved it to me. Surely you can't imagine most guys would have magazines full of bulging, sweating, rippling meatcakes-"

"Maybe he was kidding?"

"He's not that good an actor, Hannah. I doubt any guy our age is."

Hannah hesitated. "So... is this good or bad?"

Susan grimaced. "Well, we're not really sure. Obviously, he doesn't want people knowing before he's ready to tell them. And his family either doesn't know or is in denial."

"But what about you? And your situation?" Hannah pressed.

"That's part of the problem. We were talking, and Justin thought, maybe..."

"What?"

"He's not... against it."

"Against _what_ , Susan?"

Susan looked extremely doubtful and uncomfortable. "He said he wouldn't mind marrying me."

Hannah's eyebrows rose. "Why in the world would he do that?"

"Apparently, that's how these... arrangements can work."

"WHAT?"

"Calm down, I haven't even said-"

"Oh, Susan, you can't! He doesn't love you!"

"I know that!" Susan snapped. "D'you think I need you to remind me of that? Can't find a single bloody bloke who wants to give me babies, so I've got to ask one of the ones who never would, because he'd rather-"

"Susan, there's got to be another way!"

"Of course there is. But we're talking about my entire family dying out here, Hannah! Time is very much a factor! I haven't exactly got suitors coming out of the woodwork, what with most of them terrified that the damned Dark Lord will crash the wedding! At this point, I'm just glad that bloody Justin hasn't run away screaming at the very idea of marrying me!"

"It's not right," Hannah said softly.

"Yeah, well, I'm about up to my neck in things that aren't right, Hannah, so I don't need the reminder, okay? You're my best friend, so any time you want to start dishing out the support, that would be really great!"

"Susan," Hannah whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, I didn't ask for this!"

Hannah swallowed hard. "When's the next date? With Justin?"

Susan faltered. "I... well, I don't know yet."

"I-I can help you pick out something to wear."

"What for?" Susan muttered. "Not like he'll be looking at me."

"Appearances are important," Hannah said softly. "I'm sure he'd say the same."

Susan narrowed her eyes. "Why do you suddenly want to help with this?"

"You asked me to!" Hannah cried defensively.

"And now every idea I have is a great one?"

Hannah frowned. "Susan, just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

"Find a date for the wedding," Susan said immediately, only half-joking, and not understanding at all how serious Hannah was about supporting her.

* * *

Harry didn't have a girlfriend, everyone knew that.

No one was quite sure why, though.

Hannah suspected it was for much the same reason as Susan: inability to find the right person. In Harry's case, a person that genuinely liked him for him, and was willing to put up with the numerous downsides of being associated with him. These didn't apply to Hannah: she liked Harry, feared being killed by Death Eaters as much as she was ever going to, and knew that lies printed in a newspaper were still just that.

But Harry wasn't a hero, or a miracle worker, or a savior. At least, he didn't want to be any of that. He wanted to be just Harry.

Anyway, Hannah was quite sure that Harry did not have the same... issue as Justin. Girls clearly made him nervous. As if she needed more proof, when she approached Harry in the library, he blushed and avoided her eyes until she was right next to him.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi, Hannah." After a pause, he asked, "How's Susan?"

That made Hannah frown. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You're her best friend, who'd know better than you?" Harry stared at her, then shrugged uncomfortably. "I know what it looks like, when someone is losing sleep. As my mirror likes to tell me."

"Oh." He certainly would know. "Susan is... managing," Hannah finally said.

"That doesn't sound at all reassuring. But I guess it's really none of my business. And she's got you, so..."

"So what?"

Harry shrugged again. "I can't imagine I wouldn't improve, if you were looking after me..."

Hannah blushed. "Harry, I need a favor."

At this, Harry looked surprised.

Hufflepuff was unlike the other Houses, in that it took cooperation and inclusiveness very seriously. Large study groups were formed at the start of every year, and those too shy or awkward to join were all but pulled in against their will. Hannah, Susan, and Harry were all in the same study group. But this only meant that they knew each other. Harry was too nervous around pretty girls (which apparently Hannah and Susan were, in his eyes) to approach one on his own, and Harry's fame was intimidating enough to many.

They weren't friends. And yet, each thought the other was rather nice, from afar.

Desperation is a very peculiar magical creature.

Hannah quickly gave Harry a heavily edited version of her problem. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. It was that she wasn't ready to tell anyone the whole truth.

And just the highlights seemed to stun Harry, so that was probably a wise choice.

"So, Susan and Justin are not really dating, but are likely to be married. You don't think it's a good idea, but you want to be supportive for Susan. And to do that, you need someone you're not really dating, but it looks like you are." Harry paused and stared at her with wide eyes. "And you want me to-?" he added, his voice cracking.

"I know it all sounds mad," Hannah sighed. "And you probably think I've got some nerve, asking you to-"

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Harry muttered.

Hannah stared at him in shock. "Huh?"

Harry blushed. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it," he repeated. "Just... it does all sound mad, but you know what the maddest part is?" He looked away and bit his lip, as if trying to pluck up his courage. "This _really_ pretty girl, who I'd be lucky to even have talk to me, finally does, and she asks me to _pretend_ to be her boyfriend, because she's clearly got no interest in me being her _actual_ one." He chuckled bitterly.

Hannah felt horrible, and said the first thing that came to mind. "At least you'll get to snog." And then, because it was already out there: "Want to start now?"

Harry stared at her. She noticed he wasn't frowning anymore, though.

* * *

The snogging had a rather curious, unexpected impact: it made them friends.

Hannah was fully aware that Harry was a very nice boy who was doing her a huge favor, even if an outside observer might have thought that he was more than getting paid for his investment.

Harry was fully aware that Hannah had no romantic interest in him, and yet was still encouraging him to put his lips and hands on her, to a certain degree. Very strange.

Stranger still, there was simply no way he could deny, to her or himself, that he was very attracted to her: the evidence was instantly obvious, tended to last for a while, and resulted in them stopping immediately if Harry requested it. Which he had to, in order to avoid further embarrassment. He had even come up with a code phrase to signify his needed to stop at once. It was, he said, the unsexiest thing he could possibly imagine. Hannah agreed. Having "Snape's behind you," muttered in her ear killed any sort of desire to continue the appearance of amorous pursuits.

And through it all, Harry remained respectfully wary. Any time he risked venturing into new territory, he always paused, giving Hannah time to nod or shake her head. It was up to her, how convincing she wanted them to be. Unfortunately, the answer was very, at least for Susan's sake. Harry had never considered it before, or at least wouldn't admit to having considered it before, but Hannah and Susan routinely saw each other mostly unclothed. So if Susan was expecting to see love bites, the lack of them would be suspicious.

They never gave Susan cause to be suspicious, at Hannah's insistence. Harry just kept his mouth shut, except when he was required to open it for... reasons, and tried to enjoy his mixed blessing.

And then someone came up with the horrible idea of a double date. Hannah suspected it was Susan. Only someone keenly not romantically interested in their partner, and desperately not wanting to be dreadfully bored by being alone with them, would think of such a thing as being a positive.

Hannah spent the first five minutes of the date realizing that she and Harry were more physically affectionate than Justin and Susan were. By a great deal. Susan had known this in advance, but it was different, actually seeing it two feet in front of her, while Justin sat there like a rock. A rock that occasionally noticed the cute male waiter, but still a rock.

It was impossible to blame Justin, though. From what Susan had said, he was as uneasy as she was about the arrangement, but would stick to it if she would. They had tentatively agreed that an open but discreet marriage was best: they could see other people so long as they weren't blatant about it. But it was best that at least the first child definitely came from Justin. For appearances. Justin had even suggested that any male lover of Susan's be introduced as a friend of his, to avoid suspicion. Susan admitted to Hannah that she was slightly more concerned that any male lover of hers might end up as Justin's.

It was insane, but it was working. Hannah had found a... partner. Susan was... not happy, but she could no longer complain that Hannah was not doing her part. Harry did virtually anything Hannah asked him to, with varying degrees of embarrassment. And Justin, oddly, was suddenly far less nice than he had been. He was moodier, quicker to anger, and talked considerably less. Susan was perplexed by this, and assumed that he was having more trouble dealing with the pressure than she was. His best friend Ernie Macmillan wasn't much help, as he was too busy making out with a dark-eyed Ravenclaw girl in their year. Hannah couldn't help but wonder if there was a pattern there, and was soon proven right.

The whole of Hufflepuff House was rocked by scandal: they had lost a whopping 75 points in a bathroom brawl involving Justin, Ernie, and most shocking of all, Harry. Even stranger, it was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and she gleefully carried the details to the entire school. Harry and Ernie had been meeting there in secret for days, and when Justin found out, he confronted them in a jealous rage. Things got out of hand, and Ernie hexed first, followed by Justin. Harry hadn't even attempted to defend himself, and got the worst of it, but still lost 15 points for being in a girls bathroom at all.

The actual story was even more uncomfortable: Harry and Ernie had been trying to find ways to explain and deal with Justin's worsening behavior. Neither had been prepared for how angry and suspicious Justin was when he found them. Nor had they had any idea what to do with the reason for Justin's anger: he was in love with Ernie, yet crushing on Harry, and the idea of them seeing each other behind his back was too much to stand. They denied it, but Justin wouldn't listen. Ernie in particular was vehement in his denial, and between his and Justin's rapidly rising tempers, a fight was inevitable. Harry had done his best to diffuse the situation, but his presence only made Justin angrier, and Ernie struck first, hoping to Stun Justin and end things quickly. He'd missed, and being attacked by his best friend sent Justin over the edge.

Of greatest importance was that Harry, no slouch at dueling himself, could and should have easily disarmed both boys. But he had determined that turning his wand on either boy first would be seen as a betrayal. It was a choice that had most of the school laughing at him. But there was one person who wasn't laughing. His name was Cedric Diggory, and in Hufflepuff, when Cedric talked, everyone listened. Cedric was tapped for Head Boy the following year, and he personally wrote to the Headmaster and Professor Sprout over the summer, strongly recommending Harry as one of the Hufflepuff fifth year prefects. It was presumptuous in the extreme, and if Cedric were given to displays of egotism, he would have been ignored. He wasn't, and so he wasn't. So what the rest of the school called foolishness or cowardice, but what Cedric called moral fiber and unshakable loyalty, earned Harry a prefect's badge.

Unfortunately, it was the very same badge that both Justin and Ernie had been hoping for, and it was this, more than anything else, they claimed, which spelled the end of their friendship. Hannah noticed that Ernie soon broke up with his Ravenclaw girlfriend to date a stream of girls, and was proud to show each of them off to anyone who would watch. She doubted that Harry, or the prefect's badge, had much to do with why Justin and Ernie were no longer friends. And she had little patience for either one, due to their refusing to speak to Harry, or thank him for not hexing them into oblivion.

Susan, thankfully, saw no reason to continue pretending to date Justin, since the truth was out. But, in an infuriating turn for Hannah, Susan insisted that Hannah was lucky to have Harry, because boys with moral fiber were in high demand. And Hannah only felt more obligated to stay with Harry when she was also named a prefect. She had no illusions: she had earned it, but of course many claimed it was only because Harry was her boyfriend. And regardless of how she felt, she knew that splitting with him would be a poor show of support, considering what he'd done for her. Even worse, Harry in no way pressured her to stay with him, which only proved he had moral fiber leaking out of his ears, and made her want to hug and hit him at the same time.

Worse, if Hannah had broken up with Harry, Susan would have wanted to know why. If Hannah blamed it on Harry, Susan would be mad at him, and Harry deserved better than that. If Hannah blamed herself, Susan would be upset that Hannah had ignored her advice. And if Hannah simply broke down and admitted the truth, well... she'd already seen one friendship ruined by the exact same thing. Losing Susan now would mean that all of this trouble had been for nothing. And she was not about to devastate the House's points with another friendship gone sour.

It was just her luck: Harry Potter was a boyfriend that some witches would have gladly killed for, and yet Hannah was the only one who felt trapped with him.

* * *

Hannah just barely dodged a Stunner and sent another one at her attacker, who dodged with ease and caught her with a Trip Jinx. She'd had enough practice falling that she was able to land in a way where the only thing truly damaged was her pride.

"Meeting will start in ten minutes," Harry said abruptly, checking his watch. "We should only be a little late if we leave now."

"Any later and we'll be murdered in our beds," Hannah sighed as she got up.

"She wouldn't do that, she's Head Girl," Harry protested.

"And a Slytherin, which means she'd frame someone else for it and never be found out."

"Fair point," Harry agreed. "We've been pretty lucky so far, haven't we?"

"Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"Sorry?"

"Everyone else thinks we spend all of our time getting lucky as it is, Harry."

"Ah." Harry frowned. "You don't actually think we should-?"

"No, Harry. That would needlessly complicate things between us." She paused. "And I... no, you deserve better than someone who isn't... you know."

He touched her arm. "I could do far worse, Hannah."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, Harry." She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, pressing her lips firmly to his. His hands were immediately on her, running up and down her body. By the time they were done, both their lips were slightly swollen, and their clothing had a distinctly rumpled look. By the time they ran all the way to the prefects' meeting, there would be little question of what they'd been up to.

* * *

"Well, well, well. My favorite pair of Hufflepuffs have decided to be late again. Whatever shall I do with them, hmm?"

Hannah barely suppressed the urge to shiver. She was rarely relaxed around Slytherins in general, but only the Head Girl consistently made her feel like a pig being prepped for slaughter. It was extremely hard to believe that this same person was even in their year. The aura of menace she had managed to cultivate in their shared time at Hogwarts was surpassed only by the piercing certainty forever in her eyes: that she knew everything, especially about you, and was just waiting for the perfect time to ruin you.

No one used either of her names anymore. It would have been perceived as being too familiar with her, which she would not allow. Her title was her name now, and that was the way she liked it. And poor Terry Boot remained Terry Boot. He was a mere footnote. He could say he was Head Boy, but no one would believe it: he was a figurehead, and not much of one.

Harry hesitantly cleared his throat, flinching as those cold, cold eyes slid over to him. "As usual, we'll do extra patrols, and cover for anyone who needs-"

The Head Girl waved a hand dismissively. "More," she said simply.

Hannah winced. "Separate patrols?"

A snort. "Obviously. You aren't being rewarded. Still more."

They glanced at each other.

"Can't think of anything, can you? I'm disappointed, truly." The Head Girl smirked at them. "Yes, I think there's one punishment that you're overlooking. Perhaps you just need a nudge in the proper direction."

Hannah was stumped. She only knew this could mean nothing good. "What are you suggest-?"

"You," the Head Girl interrupted, pointing at Hannah, "shall be a Gryffindor for the next hour. During which you will gather the courage to face your best friend and tell her the truth. Because if you don't, I will. And my way will be far more... easy for others to notice."

Hannah stared at her in horror. "Head Girl, surely you wouldn't-?"

"I have been more than fair," the Head Girl reminded her. "When you and Potter first explained your situation to me, I nearly laughed out loud. True, if you _hadn't_ told me, I would have had your badges by now. But I do have a reputation to protect, and this is the last time I will be seen being merciful to you two. It's up to you, if you wish to remain a couple. But I will no longer tolerate you being late. So I will eliminate the main reason that you are late. Now that you won't be spending so much time trying to fool Susan Bones, you will have more time to devote to your duties. And you will do this, if you want to keep those badges."

"Head Girl, if-" Harry began to say.

"You are dismissed, Potter," the Head Girl interrupted. "I have one last piece of business to discuss with Abbott. In private. Perhaps you should find Susan Bones, and tell her that she'll need to make herself available shortly."

Harry shot Hannah a helpless, apologetic look and slipped out of the room.

"I suppose you think I'm being cruel," the Head Girl said after a long moment.

"No," Hannah admitted. "I think I always knew I'd have to tell her the truth, eventually. I just thought, maybe I'd be able to find a perfect time to do it. But I never did. And at some point, I think I stopped looking."

"What are you most worried about?" the Head Girl asked. "That she won't accept you?"

"That, and that because of it, she'll be all alone. I don't want that for her."

"If she can't accept who you truly are, then she was always going to be alone. And if she isn't strong enough to be alone, then she should do whatever it takes to hang on to the one true friend she has." The Head Girl tilted her head slightly. "She isn't Macmillan, you know. She's smarter, for one thing."

Hannah sighed. "People aren't normally that smart when they're angry. Ernie wasn't."

"He was afraid that his best friend being in love with him would cause people to question his own leanings. Or cause him to question them himself. If anything, Susan Bones should be much more open-minded, given her own troubles with men."

Hannah shook her head. "She's worried about her family dying out. That's why she was willing to put up with Justin in the first place. For her, it's more important than her own happiness. I know that better than anyone."

"But do you know what would make her happiest now? When is the last time that you asked? Or have you been so concerned about what you think her happiness is, that you haven't stopped to ask lately? The thing about hiding the truth, is that you often miss some yourself."

* * *

Susan was sitting in the common room when Hannah arrived. She looked unconcerned, but attentive. "Hi. Harry said you wanted to talk to me?"

Hannah nodded and sat down beside her. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago. But I was afraid, and then the time never seemed right, and then I thought maybe I shouldn't even-"

"Hannah, you're rambling. Just spit it out."

Hannah looked into her best friend's expectant face. Suddenly, her own expression crumbled, she was sobbing and Susan was holding onto her, looking bewildered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hannah wailed.

"For what?" Susan asked, torn between laughing and worrying. "You're not making any sense!" She moved her hand, trying to get a better grip, but Hannah misinterpreted the gesture and made a wild grab for her.

"Oh, don't leave me!" Hannah begged.

"Who said anything about-?" Susan frowned. "Hannah. What's going on? What have you been hiding?"

"Please don't hate me," Hannah whispered.

"I don't hate you, but I might hit you if you don't start talking to me, you silly girl! If we weren't best friends, I would have already!"

That only made Hannah cry harder, and she flung her arms around Susan's neck.

Susan groaned and patted Hannah on the back. "Look, since you're so worried about me running, I can hardly do that while you're holding onto me. So why not just tell me now, when I can't get away? That's fair, right?"

It was. And Hannah held on a little tighter as she whispered the truth in Susan's ear. And to Susan's credit, she did not hit Hannah, or even hate her. Although there was quite a bit of yelling later on, but Hannah felt she deserved that and then some. And Susan at least waited until Hannah had stopped crying to start up, which was nice. Good best friends were often considerate that way.

* * *

The next morning, Susan slept in, and aimed a kick at Hannah when she tried to wake her. So Hannah went to the common room alone, where Harry was waiting for her.

"How'd it go last night? With Susan?" he asked.

"Bad," Hannah admitted with a smile. "At first. She was pretty mad."

"Sorry," Harry murmured, squeezing her hand.

"Oh, it got better. After she stopped yelling."

"I'm not sure you're telling it right. It sounds bad from what I'm hearing."

Hannah laughed. "Well, she yelled an awful lot. She was _really_ mad at me. I can't blame her."

"What exactly was she mad about?"

"Let's see. I didn't tell her that I was in love with her. Susan admits that she wouldn't have known what to do about it, but she still wanted to know. Especially since it would have kept her from going out with Justin, which she totally regrets."

"Wait. How does that work? You just said she didn't know-"

"I know. But Susan insists that she never would have gone out with a boy she didn't even like, while knowing her best friend was in love with her. In fact, she was furious that I encouraged her to. She kept saying that instead of all those awful dates with Justin, she'd much rather have been right here, curled up in front of the fire with me."

"That's... good, isn't it?" Harry asked warily.

Hannah nodded. "After Susan calmed down, she said I was forbidden to do anything that stupid for at least the next year of our friendship. Then she hugged me and told me to go to bed."

"Then, you two haven't decided anything about...?"

Hannah shook her head. "Not really. I don't want to date anyone until Susan makes up her mind, however long it takes. I want her to see that I'm serious about this. And based on what she said, she's sick of dating for the moment."

"What about her family?"

"Someone, and we're not sure who, owled this pamphlet to her." Hannah passed it to him.

Harry read the front, turned bright red, and handed it back. "Ah. Well, that would solve the problem of her needing to find and date the right man. And I suppose it would also leave her free, if you two ever wanted to... um."

"Yes, I'd like very much to _um_ with her, but I doubt it will happen soon." Hannah paused. "I'm sure you realize by now what all this means for you and I, Harry."

"You're dumping me, are you?" he asked with a grin. "Such a callous woman you've become, Miss Abbott."

She pouted. "I prefer to think of it as setting you free."

"Sure you do, you're the one dumping me for your eventual girlfriend. That must feel very freeing."

"Well, there's hope for you yet. I'm sure there are tons of witches who would like a piece of Harry Potter."

"That's the problem: I'm worried about being ripped into pieces by them."

"Actually, I've been giving it some thought. It's very strange that the Head Girl chose to get involved in our relationship. Maybe she wants all of you, all to herself."

Harry grimaced. "Suddenly, I think might prefer being ripped apart."

* * *

Hannah stayed behind after the next prefect meeting. Most people probably assumed that it was part of her punishment, but she didn't mind that. They would believe that before they'd believe that she wanted to thank the Head Girl for anything.

Frankly, the Head Girl herself had a hard time believing it.

"You actually came to _thank_ me?"

"If you hadn't forced me, I'd still be in the same mess. At least the current mess is less, erm, messy?"

The Head Girl shook her head. "Whatever. Is that all you wanted to say?"

"No." Hannah stared at her. "There can't be too many students here who would have both knowledge of, and access to, the sort of pamphlet that Susan got. So I need to thank you for that, too, I suppose. Although I have to say, don't you think you might have overstepped just a bit with that?"

"Are you actually complaining that I shed some light on a way for both you and your best friend to get what you want?"

"It's an intensely personal matter-"

"So was Finicky being in love with Macmillan, and that's all over the school now."

"But it shouldn't be. Nor do I think a Head Girl would normally involve herself in-"

"Shut up," the Head Girl said abruptly. Then she paused, noticing the hurt in Hannah's eyes, and cleared her throat. "I can't talk when you're talking, and I don't want to have to repeat any of this."

It was the closest thing she'd ever heard to the Head Girl apologizing: she'd actually explained her rudeness. Truly a momentous occasion.

"You don't remember what I was like in first year, do you?" the Head Girl asked.

"It's less that I don't remember, and more that I never actually knew," Hannah answered. "You kept to yourself and certainly never spoke to me. I think most people passed it off as Slytherin pride."

The Head Girl snorted. "Actually, it was because I didn't want them to have another reason to target me. The Sorting Hat told me I would do great things in Slytherin. It sounded perfect to me. What the Sorting Hat _didn't_ tell me was that Slytherin doesn't take kindly to girls like me. Especially not ambitious girls like me. I was hexed thirty-six times that first week, by my own housemates."

Hannah stared at her in shock.

"I went to my Head of House. The only useful thing he did was warn me that complaining, particularly to him, would make things worse. To this day, I'm not sure if he meant he would hex me next. I knew then that I couldn't depend on anyone in Slytherin. But I figured, this is a school. Surely if I study hard, stand out in class after class, some teacher is bound to take an interest. But I got tired of waiting, and even more tired of being hexed. So I looked up former dueling champions, and I found one that still teaches here: Professor Flitwick."

Like most, Hannah was startled by this. Kind little Professor Flitwick, who squeaked when startled, and could easily be picked up by over half the students at Hogwarts? _He_ was a dueling champion? On the other hand, if he'd been even smaller while attending Hogwarts, perhaps he'd needed to be good a dueling.

The Head Girl went on. "I begged him to teach me how to defend myself. When he asked why I was so desperate, I only told him that bullies were meaner when they could do magic. He agreed to teach me defensive spells only, hoping that I would tell the whole truth in exchange for offensive spells."

"Did you?" Hannah asked.

"I never needed to. What he taught me was more than enough. The first spell I rebounded back to the caster left them blind for three days. They were so ashamed that I, a witch and a Muggle-born, got the best of them, they fittingly claimed that they never saw the attacker. After that, it was easier. At the end of first year, when even the most idiotic of my housemates realized that we'd only gotten the House Cup because of me, they understood two things. That hexing me badly enough to land me in the hospital wing would only hurt the House, and that I wouldn't stand for it anymore."

"So they left you alone after that?" Hannah guessed.

"Exactly what you said, but not like you mean it. They didn't hinder me. They didn't help me. They left me entirely alone. Aside from the occasional dirty look from those too cowardly to do more, but just mean enough to want me to have a bad day. If I failed, if I succeeded, it was entirely on me. If I achieved glory, it would be mine alone. Becoming Head Girl was my perfect revenge. It's _mine_ , and my House either has to distance itself from that fact, or reluctantly claim me as one of their own, after years of total neglect." The Head Girl paused and glanced at Hannah. "You wondered why I got involved with you and Potter?"

Hannah nodded.

"Friendship is a luxury, Abbott, one that you were abusing. Not everyone is so lucky. Some people are entirely alone. Please remember that, before you even think about misusing a friend again. They don't have to be there. They don't have to forgive you. They could turn their back on you for good, and you would deserve far worse than that. So be very glad that a pamphlet entitled 'The Benefits of Artificial Insemination' was the only thing you had to complain about."

"Would you like a date with Harry?" Hannah suddenly blurted out.

The Head Girl stared at her in disbelief. "Did you not just hear the speech about how you _shouldn't_ misuse your friends? I'm certain that pimping one out would fall under that heading."

"You didn't answer the question," Hannah pointed out with a grin.

" _If_ I wanted to date Potter, I would arrange it on my own. _Without_ your help."

"I just thought I'd offer. Because it's a nice, _friendly_ thing to do. Kind of like the way you helped me face Susan. And gave us another option. Only a true _friend_ would do that."

The Head Girl frowned at her. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying welcome to the lap of luxury, Head Girl. You aren't friendless anymore." And Hannah turned and walked away in a hurry, unable to see the stunned expression on the Head Girl's face, but imagining it pretty accurately, anyway.

* * *

"Potter."

Harry nearly gagged on the bite of steak in his mouth, and swallowed hard as he turned to find the Head Girl glaring at him. "Yes?" he croaked, both from the rough swallow and outright fear.

"I'd like a word with you." With that, she simply turned and moved away.

Harry had little choice but to rise and follow her out of the Great Hall, hoping that whatever she had to say wouldn't ruin his dinner.

The Head Girl stopped just outside of the entrance, abruptly enough where Harry nearly ran into her back. He was so focused on not running into her that he missed the fact that she'd spoken entirely. It was only when he saw that she was staring at him expectantly that he realized this. "Sorry?" he asked weakly.

She frowned at him and repeated herself.

Harry gaped at her in shock.

Scowling, she closed his mouth. "Really, I did _not_ need to see that, Potter. Though I suppose it's my fault for calling you out during dinner-"

"Are you sure?" he asked at once.

"Quite sure that I never want to see that again," she sniffed.

"No, not that. I mean... are you absolutely sure that I can?"

"I just told you that you have my permission. Do I need to make it an order?"

"It might help," Harry said sincerely.

She rolled her eyes. "Very well. I order you to only refer to me by my first name from now on. I have given Ab... I mean, Hannah, the same privilege, since we are all friends now, apparently. But I warn you, don't abuse it."

"Oh, as your new friend, I think I sort of have to," Harry disagreed. "It'd be totally worth every point lost."

"While I'm sure my own House would greatly enjoy the mountain of points you would be docked, yours might have something to say about that. They forgave you the one time, but that was because of Diggory. Don't push it. Now, I'll let you get back to your dinner-"

"I'd like to, but I can't. It hasn't been long enough."

"For what?"

"For people to jump to exactly the wrong conclusion over the facts that Hannah and I are no longer together, and suddenly, the Head Girl is pulling me out of dinner for an extended personal chat."

She glared at him. "Potter, you-"

"That's Harry to you," and he paused dramatically, a wide grin spreading slowly across his face, "my dear Hermione."

Suddenly, the Head Girl was having serious regrets about no longer enjoying the luxury of friendlessness.

* * *

 **The Agony of Abbott - Score**

 **Unique House Harry: 10**

 **Odd House Hermione: 20**

 **Melty Slytherin: 30**

 **Diggory Declaration Bonus: 5**

 **Bathroom Brawl Bonus: 5**

 **Mighty Muggle-born Bonus: 500**

 **Individual Total: 570**

 **Overall Total: 1085 + 570 = 1655**

* * *

 **Endnotes:**

I should point out that I am not simply putting Harry in a different House each time. I am also trying to show how he displays the qualities that might have gotten him there in the first place. And I do think Hufflepuff is really the only House where Harry would try to end a fight between friends in this way. Of course, that was mostly a lead-in to him getting Cedric's approval.

Some people will surely ask, "Hermione? In _Slytherin_?" Recall that Hermione is highly ambitious about making drastic changes to the magical world. And what is Slytherin known for? Ambition. (It always struck me how being highly intelligent seems to be prized in both Slytherin and Ravenclaw.) Yes, it does take bravery to make those changes, a Gryffindor quality, but the ceaseless drive to make them happen no matter what sounds more like a Slytherin to me. Of course, it isn't a perfect fit, a Muggle-born in Slytherin, which is why Hermione has such a hard time of it early on. But I don't think the Sorting Hat makes mistakes. It simply reviews the options and picks one. Which means you have several, if not many students, who have qualities of more than one House. Which leads to some of them questioning the Hat's choices.


	4. The Granger-Potter Group

Notes: This one came out a bit long. If you've been keeping track, I'm sure you know this features Harry in Ravenclaw and Hermione in Gryffindor. I'm proud to say I again resisted temptation, and avoided making them a couple this time. Sort of.

Summary: Hermione expected all sorts of challenges at Hogwarts, but parenting and a blended family weren't on the list. Especially when she hasn't even been on a real date yet.

* * *

 **Prefect Perspectives**  
 **A Harry Prefect Fanfic by**  
 **Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**  
 **POV4: The Granger-Potter Group**

* * *

Hermione Granger had a secret: she was a double agent.

And she wasn't the only one.

She hadn't asked for any of it. It was the damned Sorting Hat's fault entirely.

It had all been going so well, at first. Or as well as things could go, for her.

As was usual for every school Hermione had attended, she had managed to alienate nearly everyone she encountered aboard the Hogwarts Express in record time. The only one who she hadn't managed to scare off was poor Neville Longbottom, and Hermione suspected if he hadn't lost his toad, he would have made himself scarce as well.

Just as Hermione reluctantly decided to tell Neville that perhaps losing a toad on a train filled nearly to bursting with owls might have sealed poor Trevor's fate, someone came to rescue them both.

"Is this your toad?" the dark-haired girl asked, holding up Trevor with caramel-colored but slightly dirty hands.

"Trevor!" Neville cried in relief as the girl handed over the resigned toad. "Thank you so mu-" he started to say, then got a good look at her and gaped stupidly.

Hermione tried not to be obvious about pressing very lightly on his toes with her foot. "Thanks for your help," she said to the admittedly prettier girl. At least, Hermione felt she was, and Neville certainly hadn't looked at Hermione that way.

The girl smiled. "It was no problem. It was either bring him back to you, or keep watching my sister scream while he tried to climb up her shirt."

That sounded very much like it had been a problem to Hermione, but she decided introductions were better. "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville Longbottom." When Neville made no move to agree, she pressed down on his toes a bit harder, at least hoping for a croaked greeting. Still nothing.

"Hi, I'm Padma Patil," the other girl said with a smile. She somewhat self-consciously glanced at her hands, wanting to wipe them off somewhere but knowing she didn't wish to do so on her clothes.

Hermione recognized the problem, and saved Padma the trouble of trying to shake hands by lightly grasping her arm. "It's nice to meet you."

"And you," Padma said with a nod, smiling again.

Neville finally came back to life, and finally contributed something useful: his grandmother often cleaned up after him with a spell, but he only knew how it sounded, not how to perform it.

After practicing discreetly on a tainted patch of wall, Hermione successfully managed to Scourgify Padma's hands without incident. Padma insisted on shaking hands with both of them then, causing Hermione to smile and Neville to blush.

They were soon interrupted by shrieks: Trevor had escaped while Neville was distracted, and tried to hide in Padma's sister's shirt again.

Neville didn't care. He was in love.

Hermione didn't care. She had made a new friend.

Padma didn't care. She had found a friend who wasn't her twin.

Parvati very much cared. She did not feel that attracting a toad twice before she even reached Hogwarts was a good sign.

* * *

Hermione couldn't contain her disappointment as Padma handed the Sorting Hat back to Professor McGonagall, and then walked over to the cheering Ravenclaw table. Because Hermione was watching this from her own seat at the Gryffindor table.

She had lost her new friend already.

To the House that Hermione had wanted to be in, in the first place.

But the Sorting Hat insisted that Hermione belonged in Gryffindor. Just as it apparently thought Padma belonged in Ravenclaw.

Except Hermione thought Padma had been rather brave and chivalrous. Why hadn't that counted?

Well, Hermione still had Neville. He was just grateful he'd been accepted into any House, although he was especially relieved not to be a Slytherin.

The next to be Sorted was Parvati, and she happily sat down next to Hermione. Although Hermione thought this happiness was due to the fact that Trevor was, once again, missing, and not attached to Parvati's shirt. At least not yet.

And just because Hermione had not been taunted enough, Harry Potter was the next to join Ravenclaw, and Hermione was left wondering what she'd done so wrong.

* * *

In the next few months, Hermione became more convinced than ever that the Sorting Hat had made the wrong choices. She was doing well in Gryffindor, at least academically, but making friends, other than Neville, stayed just beyond her reach. Neville desperately needed Hermione's help, to the point where she began to wonder if he would have been any better off in any other House. Padma seemed braver than ever, because she insisted on remaining friends with Hermione and Neville. Thankfully, relations between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were not so hostile where this was an issue at most times, and Padma in particular was given a pass because her twin was in Gryffindor. Parvati was cordial to Hermione, but in a way that made it clear that Padma was the main reason for this.

Yet, Harry was thriving. Despite his Muggle-raised background, despite his near-total unfamiliarity with magic, despite his general unease with his fame, Harry quickly rose to the top of several classes, even threatening Hermione's spot in some of them. He was not so much book-smart as he was startlingly clever and a natural at complicated spellwork. It was his magical genes coming through, Hermione decided, and having visited the Trophy Room, she had no doubt of that.

There was a closely guarded secret to Harry's success, and Hermione was certain that she was only allowed to learn of it because of her own brilliance... and, perhaps, because of her inability to betray the secret to anyone in Gryffindor who would care to listen and take advantage. Harry's elevated marks were, in no small part, the product of Ravenclaw's Take Wing program, which paired every first year with a second year (or higher) who acted as their mentor. Participation in Take Wing was both mandatory and wildly successful, because the mentors had also benefited from it as first years, so they knew precisely what was needed.

Harry's mentor, Cho Chang, had gone a bit overboard, as well she should have. The last thing Ravenclaw wanted was any other House claiming that they could have taught The Boy Who Lived better. It was as if all of Ravenclaw agreed that they wouldn't be pleased until Harry was Head Boy. To that end, Ravenclaws of every year submitted their class notes to Cho, who then broke it all down for Harry. It didn't hurt, Hermione was sure, that Cho was rather attractive, that Harry was clearly smitten with her, that his success made her look good, and that Cho was not shy about letting him know when she was pleased with him. Hermione would be very shocked if they weren't dating by Harry's fourth year.

Padma was forbidden to give class notes to Hermione, since Hermione could then use what she'd learned to earn points for Gryffindor. However, Padma did suggest that Hermione could ask for the notes of Gryffindors in higher years. Because while it was true that Hermione had little in the way of friends, it was also a fact that she earned a great deal of points. So even Gryffindors who didn't like her were willing to aid her, if it meant the House Cup at the end of the year. Percy Weasley especially seemed to view Hermione as his protege, and while she would never call him a friend, he was eager to help and she learned much from his rather detailed notes.

To no one's surprise, Ravenclaw took home the House Cup that year, due mostly to a bunch of last minute points earned by Cho, Harry, and Padma. Hermione was annoyed, because until then, she'd thought Gryffindor, due mostly to her, was going to win. She would have to be satisfied that Padma still wanted to be friends, which was enough for Hermione. Neville, of course, was thrilled any time Padma chose to talk to him.

But Hermione wasn't able to appreciate just how much Padma wanted to be her friend, until the ride home on the Hogwarts Express. There, she found herself sharing a compartment with Neville, Parvati, Padma, Cho, and Harry. The latter two were certainly popular enough to have filled a compartment with their admirers alone, so that they had agreed to join Padma was a big deal. And if Neville was tongue-tied in just Padma's presence, the additional presence of her twin, Cho, and Harry left him mute the entire train ride.

Harry, Hermione found, was quiet and thoughtful. He usually needed to be prompted to speak, and kept his answers short and to the point. This was very much unlike the Harry she knew from class, who was just as eager to answer as she was. Cho claimed he was just tired, and Harry did nod off later, his head resting on her shoulder. He proved much more outgoing once he woke up at King's Cross station, and even shook Hermione's hand as they parted, saying that he looked forward to beating her in Transfiguration next year. He managed it in a way that was both friendly and a threat.

The threat actually came true, though less because Harry's marks were better than Hermione's, and more because Hermione spent a chunk of that year Petrified. Harry blamed himself, because it was him telling her about the odd voice that only he could hear that led to her putting herself in danger. Hermione, on the other hand, credited Harry with having saved her life, because if not for his tip, she wouldn't have researched on her own and figured out what the monster was, nor thought to use a mirror, so she might have looked a basilisk straight in the eyes and surely died.

They were both disgusted that Ginny Weasley had nearly lost her soul in the process, and agreed that both Gryffindor's lack of a mentoring program, as well as the shortsightedness of her brothers, was to blame. And if there was any proof that Take Wing was capable of anything, it was the success of Luna Lovegood that year.

Hermione still remembered her first glimpse of Luna: a shy blonde girl wearing a hat that resembled a scone (complete with a bakery-fresh scent), sitting on her trunk and pretending to read a newspaper. Hermione was sure Luna was pretending because their eyes met twice as Luna subtly scanned her surroundings. Knowing the pain of loneliness, Hermione had invited Luna to sit with her and Neville, but had been turned down. The reason was obvious later: Luna had noticed other first years looking at her, jealous that she was getting attention from a second year.

Hermione had been greatly relieved when Luna was Sorted into Ravenclaw, the one House where she was guaranteed one-on-one attention from a mentor. That mentor turned out to be Harry, and the rumor was that he had personally selected Luna the second she was Sorted. There was a great deal of talk as to why Harry would do this, when Luna was clearly an odd duck. Surely, if Harry had wanted another junior, anyone would have switched with him.

But Harry wanted Luna, in part _because_ she was odd, but mostly because his accepting her was the best way to get others, at least in Ravenclaw, to do so. But it became obvious, right away, that Luna didn't need much tutoring on coursework. She was smart enough in her own right, although perhaps more creative than teachers preferred. No, where Luna truly needed help was in human contact. Her widowed father was a bit of a recluse, so her chances to interact with others had been slim. And while Harry should have been the worst person to teach Luna about being friendly, given his own background, he was actually the best. They both craved and thrived on physical affection in a way that wasn't easily understood. And Harry being willing to hug Luna, or stroke her hair, or let her fall asleep curled up in his lap, meant that most people would never dare to offend her, for fear of how strongly Harry would retaliate for someone he clearly cared deeply for.

But everyone wasn't most people, and Luna did become a target for bullying. It didn't last. Within a week, Harry had recruited the Grey Lady herself and several other ghosts to search the entire castle for Luna's stolen belongings. When they were found, wherever they were found, Harry, despite having no authority to do so, broke through whatever obstacles he needed to get them back. He was punished, but nowhere near as thoroughly as he should have been by Professor Flitwick. Luna was unwilling to name her bullies, so Flitwick applied powerful anti-theft spells to all of her belongings. And when someone had been hexed by a former dueling champion, it tended to show, to the degree where no additional punishment was usually necessary. They were, however, unable to go to the hospital wing, because Madam Pomfrey would recognize Flitwick's spellwork at once, and refuse to treat them at best, or report them to the Headmaster at worst.

Hermione found Luna to be an acquired taste. Oddly, though, Hermione inadvertently obtained the necessary experience levels needed to stomach Luna. Luna accompanied Harry as much as she could, and Hermione increasingly found it necessary to talk to him. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had involved them in a skill exchange: Harry tutored Hermione in dueling, and Hermione tutored Harry in Arithmancy. In addition, Harry was, along with Padma, one of the smartest people in their year, and Hermione would probably go mad if she couldn't vent to someone who would understand her occasionally.

During most of these times, Luna was present, clinging to Harry's arm as she peered curiously at Hermione. For her part, Hermione made an extra effort to be friendly, but had rarely seen any sign that it was effective. Luna spoke almost exclusively to Harry, the Grey Lady, and Professor Flitwick. Hermione had only managed to get head nods or shakes with direct questions. Harry didn't seem concerned, and if he wasn't, Hermione supposed she shouldn't be, either.

But then, abruptly in third year, Harry had an appointment to leave the school with the Headmaster for a few hours, and approached Hermione for a favor: he needed her to watch Luna. Which was not an oversimplification: he specifically asked Hermione if Luna could sit with her at the Gryffindor table during breakfast and lunch, so he was essentially requesting that she watch Luna eat. Hermione agreed, but felt certain it would be a disaster.

Luna was prompt: she appeared the moment Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and shadowed her much like she always had Harry, but with no talking. When Hermione wished her a good morning, Luna merely waved, and did not speak or smile. She sat across from Hermione, ate in silence, and put her nose in a book until Hermione had finished eating. Then Luna got up, left without a word, and repeated the process at lunch.

Shockingly, when next Hermione saw Harry, he thanked her heartily, assured her that Luna had greatly enjoyed her company, and was excited to do it again soon. This was not a lie: from then on, Luna would randomly appear next to Hermione during meals, eat, silently read a book, and then vanish with no warning. All attempts to engage Luna in conversation or share food were ignored, but there was a significant development: Hermione was now allowed to touch Luna, where before Luna had backed away or hidden behind Harry. It was never anything big, merely a pat on the back or a shoulder squeeze, but even Professor Flitwick had only ever shaken Luna's hand.

Again with no warning, Luna began to shadow Hermione increasingly: accompanying her between classes, tracking her down in the library, and wanting to hang out whenever Harry was busy with Quidditch practice. But, and Hermione still could not figure this out, Luna never actually seemed to want anything from her. She never spoke or in any way tried to draw Hermione's attention to her, and if Hermione tried to leave, then Luna would follow her.

Strangely, considering his interest in Herbology, it was Neville who first found a way to explain this phenomenon. He likened Luna to a baby bird, who had imprinted on Harry, and later Hermione, as her parents. That was why she asked nothing of Hermione, save being near her. Hermione privately thought this explanation was ridiculous, but the more she saw Luna silently shadowing her, the more she began to think it was true. And if it was, then she was hardly being a proper parent, or at least she wasn't being the type that she one day wanted to be.

So the next time that Luna appeared, Hermione immediately hugged her. Luna's only reaction was to stare at her. Hermione stared right back. And when it was starting to seem like no one would admit defeat, Luna blinked and said, "I have to pee." Hermione instantly released her, and Luna ran off. Upon her return, Luna simply said, "That was nice." Hermione wasn't sure if Luna meant the hug or the restroom venture. And when asked, Luna only said, "I don't regret either." Hermione wasn't sure if that was good, but she decided it couldn't possibly be bad.

* * *

Dean Thomas, Hermione had decided after giving the matter considerable thought, was a mystery.

She had seen him around, obviously: sketching in the common room, trying and failing to turn his dormmates into soccer fans ("Not enough balls, and no brooms," they always complained.), and most often, hanging out with Seamus Finnigan. Most famously, Dean would, for the low price of a butterbeer and a Cauldron Cake, create signs on demand for anyone who wished to support the Gryffindor Quidditch team during games. He was, quite simply, one of the most popular members of the House. And it didn't hurt that he was tall, good-looking, a gentleman, and generally pleasant to be around.

Hermione was not shocked when Dean was named a prefect in fifth year. Although, what had shocked her was that she had not considered what that would mean for her, since she was the other fifth year prefect.

They had to be around each other, fairly often. This was not a problem, strictly speaking. Hermione quite liked Dean, and the feeling seemed very much mutual. She caught herself blushing each time Dean winked at her, or poked her with his elbow, or stretched and leaned a bit too close to her to be entirely innocent. Unless she was very much mistaken, Dean was flirting with her and quite enjoying himself.

But he never asked her out. And Hermione really, really wanted him to. But she couldn't possibly just _say_ that.

What if he said no? She would die of embarrassment.

What if he said _yes_? She would forever be the one who asked him out first. And certain people thought she was too pushy as it was.

And it was maddening, walking to prefect meetings with Dean, sitting next to Dean in prefect meetings, leaving prefect meetings with Dean, and not talking about what she really wanted to talk about. Worse, Hermione was not the type of girl that got asked out a lot. It had happened a grand total of one time, and if Neville's intentions had been entirely romantic, instead of just originating from familiarity, friendship, or desperation, she might have given it more thought than she had. It must have taken Neville a great deal of courage to ask, and she appreciated it, but she recalled the way he had looked at Padma. If Neville had ever looked at Hermione like that, it might be a different story.

But unfortunately, the story now was that Hermione was quite sure that she was looking at Dean like that. And he must have noticed. So why the lack of progress? Why flirt with her if he wasn't going to ask her out? He didn't have a girlfriend, something Hermione often heard Parvati gossiping about. Surely Dean wasn't actually expecting Hermione to ask him out first? Her reputation aside, that just didn't happen. Although, if that was the only thing blocking progress, Hermione would have swallowed her pride and risked it. Dean wasn't going to be single forever. Or long, if her hunch was right.

So one day, out of the blue, on their way to a prefect meeting, Hermione suddenly grabbed Dean's arm and yanked him into a broom closet. That his immediate response was to laugh, instead of dragging her into his arms for a heated kiss, did not inspire confidence.

"Stop laughing, you," Hermione snapped, and he did.

"Come on, it was funny," Dean said defensively. "You just-"

"Why haven't you asked me out, Dean?" Hermione interrupted, hating the soft, vulnerable quality that she heard in her voice. She wasn't going to cry, not in front of him, of all people.

Dean stopped smiling. "Hey," he said gently, squeezing her arms. "It's not like that, I swear."

"Then what _is_ it like?" Hermione demanded, blinking away what were certainly not tears. "You come around me, being all... delightfully you, and I'm not supposed to expect-"

"Wait, wait," Dean pleaded. "Stop, Hermione."

"What?" she muttered.

"You really think I'm delightful?" Dean asked, grinning.

"Yes," she said firmly. "Or I used to, until just now! I'm serious, Dean!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Hermione. Yes, I have been flirting with you. Yes, I do like you that way. Yes, the idea of me asking you out, and having you say yes, thrills me like nothing else."

"It _thrills_ you?" Hermione squeaked.

"Like nothing else," Dean insisted, staring into her eyes.

It was happening. His face was much, much closer to her. He was actually going to-

"But I can't," Dean sighed, closing his eyes regretfully.

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"Because you're married with a kid."

"WHAT?!"

The look on her face must have been priceless, because Dean started laughing again. Hermione had to punch him in the shoulder, hard, several times, to get him to stop and explain himself.

"So, to be clear, you aren't dating Harry?" Dean finally asked.

"Wha... _Harry_?" Hermione gasped. "Where would you even get that idea?!"

"Luna," Dean said simply.

"Luna doesn't talk," Hermione snapped impatiently. Which wasn't true, of course Luna talked. She just did it very, very rarely, and almost never to people who weren't close to her. The idea that she'd spoken to Dean was hard to fathom.

"I didn't say she talked. I said I got the idea that you and Harry were dating from her."

"How?"

"She hexed me," Dean said conversationally, as if it happened all the time.

"She didn't!" Hermione gasped.

Dean pulled up his left sleeve, showing what looked like a very pale patch of skin near his elbow. "Doesn't hurt, just itched like mad at first."

"Dean, I'm so, so sorry!" Hermione wailed. "I didn't know!"

"Relax, Hermione. I'm not mad. Harry even got Flitwick to dock her five points over it. No harm done. And really, I felt worse for her. She must have been worried about losing her mother all over again."

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "Oh, not this again!"

Dean chuckled. "Hermione, I get it. You didn't ask for this. But Luna is definitely attached to you, and she won't give you up without a fight. So let's make a deal, okay? If you really want me to ask you out, get things squared away with Luna and Harry first. If you change your mind after you talk to them, that's fine, too. I'd rather not be the bad guy in this."

Hermione grumbled a bit, but nodded. "I just can't believe that Luna would do something so-"

"She has nicknames for all three of you," Dean cut in. "Harry is Big Thunder. She's Little Moon. And you? You're Big Sun."

Hermione gave him an unreadable stare.

"Talk to her, Hermione. For her sake, if nothing else."

* * *

Hermione barely heard anything during the prefect meeting. She kept staring at Harry, and then at the door, where she knew Luna was already waiting for the meeting to end. Even now, she was probably carefully painting her fingernails the same shade of green as Harry's eyes.

When the meeting ended, Harry didn't stay to chat long. He merely nodded to Dean and Hermione as he passed them, then slipped out to collect Luna. Hermione followed him. Dean wisely hung back to talk to, Hermione couldn't help but notice with some regret, Padma.

Harry had his back to Hermione and was saying something to Luna, whose large eyes were fixed firmly on his face. They drifted only when Hermione approached. Harry paused and turned to face her.

"Can we... go somewhere and talk?" Hermione asked. "The three of us?"

Harry seemed surprised but willing. "Uh, sure."

Hermione made a point of grasping Luna's hand as they walked. Luna and Harry both looked slightly surprised, but offered no protest.

Harry found a nearby classroom that was empty. He went in first and sat on a desk.

Oddly, Luna did not immediately join him, but instead stayed with Hermione. This told Hermione all that she needed to know.

"So," Hermione said. "I've just had an interesting talk with Dean Thomas."

Harry gave no sign that he knew where this was going, but Luna flinched.

"Somehow, we got to the topic of Luna hexing him."

Harry groaned. "Hermione, about that. It wasn't a big deal, and-"

"I strongly disagree," Hermione interrupted.

"Dean said it was fine," Harry said.

"I'm sure he did. That sounds like something he would say. I, however, am obviously not Dean, and it is not fine with me."

Luna looked very nervous. Harry picked up on this at once.

"Hermione, please stay calm. You have every right to be upset about this. But I would really rather not have this conversation in front of Luna."

Hermione frowned at him. "If I thought keeping Luna out of this was to her benefit, I would agree."

"With all due respect, Hermione, you're not-"

"If she's going to treat me like her mother, then I get a say in how she's... raised!" Hermione was becoming more and more aware how odd this all was, but she wasn't about to back down on this point.

"Don't," Luna murmured.

Harry paused. "Luna?"

"Don't fight," Luna whispered.

Harry glared at Hermione, who glared back.

"Luna, dear," Hermione finally said, "why did you hex Dean? You had to know that wasn't right."

Luna hung her head. Hermione gently seized Luna's chin and raised her head.

"Please talk to me, Luna," Hermione pleaded.

"You'll be mad," Luna whimpered.

"Not if you tell me the truth," Hermione promised.

"I knew," Luna said simply.

"That Dean liked me?" Hermione guessed.

Luna frowned. "That _you_ liked _him_."

Hermione blushed. "O-Oh. Well. That's true."

"But you like Harry, too, don't you?" Luna asked immediately.

"Yes, but it's not quite the same, Luna."

"Why can't it be? He's beautiful!"

Hermione tried hard not to laugh at the expression on Harry's very red face. "Yes, he is. And you should tell him that more often. But there are more to these things than just looks. I do like Harry. I also like Dean. But you should know, Luna, that who I like won't change my feelings about you. So you don't need to feel threatened, by Dean or anyone else."

Luna pouted. "You're not going to pick Harry, are you?" she asked sadly.

Hermione smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, Luna. I know Harry is a lovely person, and he's been a very valuable friend to me. So valuable that I would rather not alter our relationship. And if I'm being honest, my heart wants Dean."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because when I heard what you had done, for a moment, I was furious that you had tried to hurt someone that I care so much for."

Luna looked as if she wanted to cry.

"But then Dean made me realize how much you had to care for me, if you would do something so out of character, in the interest of keeping me close to you." Hermione gently stroked Luna's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Luna. If Dean and I decide to date, I will still make time for you and Harry. And if you promise to stop hexing him, I'm sure Dean wouldn't mind having you around, either."

"You're absolutely sure you don't want to date Harry at all?" Luna demanded.

Hermione laughed. "It's not as if I see him as a troll, Luna. I just want to date Dean more. Anyway, have you even talked to Harry about this? What does Cho have to say?"

Luna frowned. "Not much these days, her lips seem to be permanently attached to Cedric Diggory's."

Hermione blinked, shooting Harry a pitying look. "Ah."

Harry shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "He's not a bad guy. He's just... the good guy who my dream girl fell for. I can't _technically_ hate him for that."

Hermione personally found Cedric to be an effective and inspiring Head Boy, not to mention rather handsome, but tactfully decided this might be the worst possible time to say so. She could certainly see the attraction. But she could also see something that maybe Harry had not.

"Harry, what about Padma?"

Hermione could almost hear an audible thunk as Harry's face emptied of all emotion, clearly a rehearsed reaction.

"What about her?"

"Oh, Harry, she's fancied you since the end of first year. I can't imagine she hasn't said anything to you yet."

"She did," Luna confirmed before Harry could shush her.

"And what, may I ask, is wrong with Padma?" Hermione demanded, suddenly feeling very protective of Padma, who was, now that she thought about it, her best female friend. The way Padma and Dean had been chatting earlier was almost completely forgotten.

"Harry turned her down," Luna said, before Harry could get his hand over her mouth.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, managing to put a great deal of disappointment in her tone.

Harry frowned. "You don't understand. No one does. I'm not decent boyfriend material. Cho obviously agreed with me."

"Padma has more sense than Cho, if you ask me. And better taste." That last part was not totally true, Hermione couldn't imagine any girl doing better than Head Boy Cedric Diggory. But yet again, it was time for tact, not truth.

"Harry thinks he doesn't know how to love properly," Luna said. "Because of those Muggles who raised him. I've told him it just isn't true, but he won't believe me."

"Of course you know how to love, Harry!" Hermione insisted. "You love Luna! You can't possibly doubt that?"

"Of course I love Luna, but that's completely different," Harry protested. "Our relationship isn't complicated. She accepts me, faults and all. I don't have to try to impress her, or hide things from her. She's the only one I can truly be me around. But being in love with someone, that's... I can't do that."

"Apparently, you _can_. You were in love with Cho, weren't you?" Hermione asked.

"I... yes, but she rejected me. And I'm not blaming her, it was her choice, and she was even sorry about it. But even if there had been no Cedric, and Cho had said yes to me, I still would have mucked it up. I have no idea how to have a girlfriend. Which is probably why Luna felt the need to keep Dean away from you, so I wouldn't lose the closest person I have to being my girlfriend."

Hermione blushed. "Harry, listen. I'm flattered, truly, but you've never shown any interest in-"

"Because I don't _have_ any!" Harry blurted out, laughing rather wildly. "That's the worst part, Hermione! You're a friendly rival at best, but Luna saw how hopeless I was, and just figured you were my best shot at happiness! I don't even want to date you! And I certainly don't want to screw things up by trying, and then lose you as a friend when things go bad!"

Hermione stared at him. "And it never occurred to you to just tell Luna this?"

Harry sighed. "Well, she'd gotten her hopes up. She really likes you. I couldn't just tell her there was no chance I'd go out with you."

Hermione frowned. "Oh, Harry. I don't want to be the reason you suddenly can't be honest with Luna. I wish you'd said something to me, we could have approached her together."

"It is a little embarrassing," Harry reminded her pointedly.

"Better a little embarrassment, instead of her hexing Dean."

Harry grinned. "You really like him, huh?"

"Yes, I do. Is that a problem?" Hermione asked.

"Not for me, Dean's cool." Harry looked at Luna, who frowned slightly. "Well, Luna?"

"I still wish you two would try. Just one date," Luna muttered.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I have an idea. It's insane, but it would count as one date for us, and I think it would prove that Harry and I are better off as friends. Are you two up for it?"

"If it'll help Luna move on, I guess I'm in," Harry agreed. "What's this idea?"

Hermione grinned. "First, maybe you'd better tell me what else happened between you and Padma."

"Nothing," Harry said firmly, shooting Luna a sharp look to keep her quiet.

"Okay, but I promise you I'm going to find out."

"Nothing, Hermione. What's the idea?"

* * *

"This is so stupid," Padma muttered.

"Hush. You agreed to this, you're doing it," Hermione replied.

"I only agreed because you said I wouldn't regret it."

"And you won't. By the end. But you have to go through hell first to get there."

"How did you even come up with this?"

"I'm sorry to say, there's a definite attraction between you and Dean already. I'm taking a very big risk, I know, but I would like to think Dean's attraction to me is stronger than his attraction to you. And though I don't know all of the details, I do think your feelings for Harry can't be put aside so easily. And I got the very strong impression that things aren't settled between you two. At worst, you'll end up with Dean, who is no consolation prize."

"And what about you?" Padma asked.

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I'll... still be married with a kid, apparently."

Padma gave her a funny look. "I've heard people joke about that, but it's just weird when you say it. And maybe a little sad."

Hermione poked her in the ribs. "Hey. I'm doing this for you, too."

"I know, sorry." Padma bit her lip. "I'm nervous. What if Harry doesn't react the way you think he will? You don't know the whole story between us."

"Well, that's a possible topic of conversation tonight!" Hermione said brightly.

Padma stared at her. "I take it back. The idea wasn't insane. You are, though."

"Don't be silly, Padma. We all know this will be awful. That's the point. You can't possibly make this more awkward than it will already be. We're really only doing this for Luna's benefit. Now, take a deep breath, and remember: when it's over, we'll all get what we want. Or who we want."

"I just want it on record, Hermione. If you weren't my best friend? If Dean wasn't a mega-hottie? If Harry wasn't the guy I've been crushing on since the end of first year? I would abandon you on this one. You've got to be the only high-level intellect I know who can take all of those superior ingredients, and still come up with crap stew."

"That just makes me a bad cook, Padma. You're the one I talked into eating my crap stew."

"And I only have to do that because your kid has weird tastes, and don't you forget it."

"She's mine and Harry's kid, and if you expect to get anywhere with Harry, you'd do well to start thinking of Luna as your kid, too. Dean will have to, as well."

"You would actually give up Dean for Luna?"

Hermione frowned. "I certainly don't want to. And it's not so much Dean she has a problem with, as it is anyone who would get in the way of her ideal couple. Which is all the more reason you will have to try twice as hard to get her to accept you. I know it won't be easy, so I'll hold off on the stepmom jokes for now."

"Thanks," Padma muttered. "Alright, we might as well get this over with."

"Just think," Hermione said happily. "One day, we'll sit back and laugh about this. As mother and stepmother!"

"You said no stepmom jokes!"

Hermione pouted. "I wasn't joking..."

* * *

It was very hard not to be smug, but Hermione thought she was managing nicely.

The double date was horrible so far.

Not wanting it to be too excruciating, Hermione had suggested a table at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. They would have drinks, brief conversation, and then flee. Preferably with different partners.

Madam Puddifoot's was clearly intended for couples. There were no five-person tables. Naturally, Madam Puddifoot did not seem to appreciate the helpful way in which Hermione Transfigured two tables into one large one. The shop, always cramped to begin with, simply could not contain the overly large table with the current setup, so Dean shrank down one of the other tables and used it as a decoration for their own.

Madam Puddifoot swore they would pay double, if they knew what was good for them.

Hermione sat next to Harry. Dean sat next to Padma. Luna sat between Hermione and Dean.

There was almost complete silence for the first six minutes, while everyone waited for their drinks, and then sipped their drinks.

Dean decided to try something. "Sugar, Luna?"

Luna was drinking warm milk, with a pinch of cinnamon. She stared at Dean, perhaps suspiciously, but nodded slowly.

Dean passed the sugar.

Luna added exactly half a spoonful to her milk, and stirred. Then she licked the spoon, and said, "Thank you, new daddy."

Dean grinned. "No problem."

The others stared.

Hermione finally coughed. "Well. Erm. Padma, how's Parvati?"

Padma gave her a bland look. "You mean Parvati, who is in _your_ House, who _you_ see every day, and certainly more than I do? You're asking _me_ how _she_ is?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly.

"She's fine."

"Wonderful."

"Uh huh. And when you tell her how this date went? Maybe don't mention this part."

"You aren't really going to tell Parvati about this?" Harry demanded.

"Why are you worried about her?" Padma asked sharply.

"Isn't it obvious? Just trying to limit the number of people who know about this."

"Why?" Luna asked. "I'm having a lovely time."

"You might be the only one, Luna," Padma pointed out.

"Why aren't you having a lovely time?"

"Because I would much rather be here on a date with Harry."

Harry sighed. "Padma, I already told you-"

"Then let me tell _you_ , Harry," Padma said fiercely. "I like you. A lot. I told you I was fine with being friends, and I am. You have personal issues, I get that, and you have to deal with them at your own pace. But you gave me the impression that we couldn't be together because you weren't fit to date anyone. You never said it was because you wanted to be with Cho more, or because you were letting Luna guilt you into dates you didn't want in the first place. It's fine if you don't want to be my boyfriend. But if you're going to lie to my face like this, I'm not even sure I want to be your friend anymore."

Harry and Dean suddenly found their own drinks very interesting.

Hermione frowned at Harry but said nothing.

Padma glared at Harry.

Luna was looking back and forth between them all with a blank expression.

When Hermione called for the check, she decided to pay for everyone. It had been her idea.

Once outside of the tea shop, they did not break into couples, as Hermione had thought. Everyone seemed to want to be alone. Except Luna, who followed Harry, as usual.

Hermione could not think of a single thing to say to Padma, and instead hugged her. Several tense seconds passed before Padma returned the hug.

"You're lucky you're my best friend," Padma muttered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked gently. "I never would have suggested this, if I'd known."

"The more I thought about it, I realized I wanted to confront Harry. And he couldn't run away if Luna was there."

"You had to know he liked Cho."

"Oh, I knew. But when I gave him the chance to tell me that, he lied. I figured, if he's willing to lie, he must really like Cho. But then, if it was so easy for him to lie to me, what does that say for how he feels about me?"

Hermione frowned. "Do you want me to say something to him?"

"No. There's not much to say."

"I can say I'm disappointed in him. It's certainly true."

"Harry isn't stupid, I'm sure he knows that by now."

"You deserve far better than the way he's treated you, Padma. Luna was out of line when she hexed Dean, but I'm tempted to say that Harry deserves it in this case."

Padma smiled grimly, but shook her head. "No. I've said what I needed to say. The next move is his. Either he owns up to what he did and apologizes, or he doesn't."

Hermione shook her head. "I still have a hard time accepting this. The Harry I thought I knew never would have behaved this way. He should be more responsible."

"I hear you do crazy things when you're in love. I think that applies here. Only I'm not the one he's in love with. Cho tried to make a clean break of it. But I can't imagine that Harry takes rejection well. Not from her, at least. It's complicated, you see. In Ravenclaw, your mentor isn't just a guide or a friend."

"Practically a parent," Hermione muttered, thinking of Luna.

Padma blinked in surprise. "For most, I suppose. But Harry and Cho, they... they were close. If there was no Cedric, I think I would have had to give up on Harry, Hermione. I never stood a chance against Cho. Not in Harry's eyes. And she couldn't say, 'Let's still be friends' to him. It would never be enough for Harry. Eventually, he'd try to blur the lines, and Cho... she might let him. That's why it was too dangerous for them to remain close. She had to push him away."

"And he won't even give you a chance?" Hermione demanded.

"Part of him is still grieving over the loss. The other part doesn't want to let Cho go. I don't know that there's anything left for me."

"What about Luna? Surely if you were able to reach her, Harry would-"

"She doesn't like me," Padma interrupted coolly.

"Padma, she's hard to get to know, and can be easily misunder-"

"Hermione, Luna told me that she didn't like me. Granted, she wasn't crazy about Cho, either, since they competed for Harry's attention, but at least she understood why the bond was necessary. But as for me, she doesn't see a need to tolerate me."

"I can't believe that. You're one of Harry's closest friends. Have you spoken to him about this?"

"Yes. He's asked me to be patient with Luna, so mostly I just avoid her and try to catch Harry alone when I can. Which is easier, now that she's been shadowing you more often, so thanks for that."

"And you don't want me to talk to Luna?" Hermione guessed.

"No. This is between Luna and I, and if I get you involved, she'll resent me even more. I want Harry. What I don't want is Harry, and his kid that's constantly trying to break us up. Dean managed on his own, how will it look if I don't? And it's not like Luna has hexed me. Yet."

* * *

The following morning, Hermione was still greatly concerned about Padma. So she was unprepared for the sight of a visibly happy Dean, who strode across the common room and put his arm around her.

"So, about that date you and I were discussing," he said.

"Surely not the one last night?" Hermione asked.

"That was a disaster, not a date," Dean informed her calmly. "Our date won't be anything like it, I promise you."

"I thought you wanted me to settle things with Luna and Harry first?"

"I did, and you did. Harry and Padma are the ones with the problem now. As for Luna, I now have her approval to date you."

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "You can't possibly know that already."

"Can. I owled her early this morning, and she sent a reply back straight away."

"Already? The morning post hasn't even-"

"She must have sensed how eager I am to ask you out." Dean paused. "Have I mentioned how eager I am to ask you out? Because I am. Eager to ask you out, that is. This is me asking you, if that wasn't clear. Will you go out with me, Hermione?"

Hermione stared at him. She very much wanted to say yes, but she couldn't stop thinking about Padma and Harry.

Dean leaned in and lowered his voice. "This is the part where you say, 'Yes, Dean, you manly man among mere men, I'd love to go out with you!' Go on, I'll wait."

Hermione laughed. "Oh Dean, of course I want to go out with you. It's just, I'm worried-"

"I am going to punch Harry in the face for ruining this for us," Dean hissed.

"Oh, don't!" Hermione pleaded.

"I wasn't serious. Much." Dean sighed. "But I suppose I wouldn't like you as much, if you were the type to abandon friends. Even the really, really annoying ones who bring it on themselves. Alright, how are we going to fix them?"

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh, no. I don't want you to think I'm doing this for free, Hermione. I'm going to need regular kisses on the cheek, so Harry and Padma will be reminded of exactly how much they're inconveniencing our budding relationship by not solving their own problems. And you can start right now."

Grinning, Hermione grabbed Dean's head and planted a very loud, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"I know that was mostly for show, but I'll take it. You'll have plenty of chances to practice, after all."

* * *

Hermione had thought she would have to be the one to fix what was broken between Harry and Padma. What she certainly hadn't counted on was for Luna to take an active role in the solution. Luna still didn't like Padma, but what she didn't like even more was the crass way in which Harry had treated Padma. Luna didn't like the thought of Harry being a bad person, and he seemed to become one around Padma.

There were, Luna later confided in Hermione, two major issues. First, Harry's feelings for Cho would not allow him to even think of dating anyone else. Second, Harry had never expressed any interest in dating Padma. He did care about Padma as a friend, and regretted how things had deteriorated between them. They both wanted to be friends, but Harry seemed to resent and even fear Padma's wanting to be more than that, even though she did her best to never pressure him about it. But the fact that he had lied to her was a major point of contention: Harry insisted he had done it to protect her feelings, but Padma felt he had done it because it was easier for him to lie to someone who wasn't very important to him.

Before Hermione could come up with a proper strategy, however, the problem decided to become hopelessly complicated, and well beyond her ability to repair.

At the next prefect meeting, Cedric announced that plans for the annual goodwill visit to St. Mungo's Hospital had been finalized. Each House was required to have three prefects participate, while the remaining prefects would cover their duties at school.

Hermione planned to sign up at once, and Dean agreed to cover her duties. Beyond being a worthy cause, Cedric had mentioned that it was also an opportunity to arrange Healer internships for those interested, and Hermione was. So when the meeting ended, Hermione had stood up and was approaching the sign-up sheet when Harry grabbed her and Dean, and pulled them to the side where Padma was waiting.

"There's a problem," Harry muttered. "With Luna."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"The second Luna woke up this morning, she ran to my dorm, shook me awake, told me not to volunteer for whatever trip was announced today, and not to let any of you do it, either."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Harry looked at Hermione. "But the last time Luna felt this panicked about anything, you ended up Petrified the very next day. And that was before she decided she liked you, Hermione. She only knew then that you were important to me. So I'm never ignoring her warnings, even if she can't explain them. Especially if she can't, actually."

"I agree with Harry," Padma said with some reluctance. "Luna and I don't exactly get along, but she cared enough to include me in this. That makes me think that whatever she wants us to avoid, it will be very, very bad."

"Then, should we warn someone?" Dean suggested.

"And tell them what?" Hermione asked. "That Luna had a bad feeling? I don't think we'd be believed. Luna's opinion doesn't hold much sway around here. Even if we said it was Harry and that he had a vision, I don't know how much good it would do. About the best thing we could do is urge whoever is going to St. Mungo's to be prepared for anything. Which isn't exactly helpful."

That was not the only problem, Hermione realized quickly. As Head Boy, of course Cedric was going. And it was no shock that Cho signed up as well. Hermione could see the struggle on Harry's face: wanting to warn Cho, but knowing if he did, she might take it the wrong way and insist on going just to distance herself from him. No, the best thing he could do was say nothing to Cho, and perhaps wish Cedric luck. Even if Cho might read too much into that, Cedric would not.

Really, it was for the best, Hermione decided. Everyone Luna had intended to warn was a fifth year prefect. Surely the more experienced prefects who were going to St. Mungo's would be better prepared for a crisis. Hermione had to believe that. It wasn't just that she was glad her friends wouldn't get caught up in whatever was going to happen.

And it was harder to feel guilty, when last minute volunteers were accepted from the rest of the student population. Hermione heard Padma talking Parvati into staying, and Dean convincing Seamus to hang out with him. As it was, Hermione had a very hard time talking Neville out of going. He'd planned to visit his parents, and Hermione only got him to stay at school by pretending to, and then in desperation, _actually_ spraining her ankle. Dean was slightly annoyed that she'd gone as far as injuring herself, but he understood.

Luna was moodier than usual when she came to see Hermione in the hospital wing, and it wasn't until Hermione saw the final sign-up sheet that she knew why. The last person to sign their name was also the only student in Luna's year that had become her friend without first needing to be convinced by anyone else.

* * *

 **DEATH EATERS ATTACK ST. MUNGO'S**

 _Hogwarts Head Boy and Girl Executed_

The Daily Prophet's headline made Hermione wish that she hadn't recovered enough to move about on enchanted crutches. Perhaps if she had stayed in the hospital wing, she could have at least pretended that the worst hadn't happened.

It was hard to say which group of students that failed to return inspired the most dread: the ones who were dead, the ones who were now temporary or permanent residents of St. Mungo's, or the ones who were declared missing.

But none of the missing caused as big a stir as one Ginny Weasley, who several survivors witnessed casting the Killing Curse that ended the life of Cedric Diggory. The true level of her involvement before that point suffered from conflicting reports: some said she had been terrified until suddenly turning on the Hogwarts group, while others swore she had masterminded the entire attack. What could not be denied was that she hadn't returned to school, her wand was left at the scene, and testing proved that it had killed Cedric. Cho was the first to provide a Pensieve account of the attack, which clearly showed Ginny, looking in no way distressed, as she cursed Cedric from behind.

Despite the evidence, Luna firmly believed that Ginny never would have chosen to kill another student, but she and the majority of the Weasley family were among the few who did. Claims that Ginny was still suffering from the effects of the possession that had plagued her first year did not strengthen the case for her innocence. Rather, they only convinced many that Ginny's soul had been destined for darkness, and had only taken this long to reach the point of no return.

Tensions were high at Hogwarts, and it was only a matter of time before they exploded.

Cho received a great deal of attention, given the now very public news that she had been Cedric's girlfriend. Harry would have hated that enough. But Cho was now thrust into the very uncomfortable position of having to describe the attack over and over again, and each re-telling only made Ginny look worse. To her credit, Cho also thought Ginny was being controlled, but that in no way changed Cho's opinion that everyone who played any part in the attack should be brought to justice.

Anyone who had known Cho well would have said she was being far fairer than her late boyfriend's killer deserved. Not among that number was Ronald Weasley, who nearly came to blows with Cho during breakfast one morning. They were largely supported by their Houses: Ravenclaw had rallied behind Cho, who was already a front-runner for Head Girl the following year. And while feelings were mixed in Gryffindor on Ginny, the long association with the Weasleys meant that they rallied around Ron, who had been closest to Ginny among her brothers and was feeling her absence, or at least expressing it, more visibly than any other.

Even if Cho was sympathetic, she wasn't going to back down. Cedric was dead, and Ginny wasn't, or at least that wasn't proven yet. And Ron had been pushed to the breaking point, hearing the vile things people said about his baby sister. It didn't matter than Ron had forced the encounter, or that Cho had given him several chances to back off and save face. Neither could or would retreat, this was too important.

And then Luna ignited the whole powder keg by hitting Cho square in the face with a Stunner.

For a long moment, everyone was too shocked to react.

It all came crashing down at once: Luna's clear betrayal of her House, Hermione realizing that her desire to protect Luna might be misunderstood as attacking her, Ron's resignation that his sister's biggest supporter was a Ravenclaw, and Harry knowing he would have to curse a lot of people to get Luna out of this in one piece.

In the explosion of activity that followed, Luna was eventually rescued by Ron, who carried her directly to the hospital wing. Apparently they had never spoken to each other before, and had plenty to talk about now.

Detention had to be moved to the Great Hall in shifts, each observed closely by two teachers.

Professor Flitwick did his best, but there was no repairing the damage that Luna had done to her own reputation. She was locked out by her dormmates, and sleeping in the common room would leave her easy prey for the rest of Ravenclaw. Harry came up with some clever solutions, but even he could see they were temporary at best. Even Gryffindor would not take Luna in now. She was too unpredictable in their eyes.

It was Dean who first said what Hermione and Harry were both thinking.

"We can't let Luna come back here next year."

* * *

Explaining the situation to Professor McGonagall was one of the hardest things Hermione had ever done. Hermione knew that a Gryffindor failing to complete their education the standard way had to be like a slap in the face for the proud professor. And Hermione in particular had broken enough academic records where Professor McGonagall would not be the only teacher sad to see her go.

But even if she had only been concerned about her own education, Hermione wouldn't have let things end there. She had done the research, and she knew it was possible. It was time to do something she had promised herself that she would never do, unless absolutely necessary.

It was time to cash in on Harry's fame.

Professor McGonagall was still upset when Hermione asked if there might be a way to complete their education without physically being at Hogwarts. After giving the matter some thought, Professor McGonagall agreed that it was possible, but tricky. The tricky part was finding teachers who would be willing and able to cover not only the material for the final two years that Hermione, Harry, and Dean would need, but also the material for the three years that Luna would require. And, Professor McGonagall was quick to point out, the bigger issue was finding a teacher that would agree to teach Luna at all.

Although the Hogwarts staff had done its best to keep the news of the breakfast brawl strictly in-house, word had leaked out to the public, and Luna was blamed for the entire incident. Professor Dumbledore had been forced to issue a statement, explaining that certain sources who would remain nameless could not possibly have all the relevant information related to the incident. He knew this, of course, because he had instructed all authorized sources not to give information to the press, so whoever had both did not know everything and was not permitted to share what little they did know. And since he did have all the relevant information, as Headmaster, he was the only one in a position to make the proper judgment. He did confirm that no one would be expelled over the incident, pointing out that if participation in a single fight were grounds for expulsion, then there would be a great many empty seats in the Great Hall next year.

Fortunately, Harry's fame was far greater than Luna's infamy. Teachers began to emerge from the woodwork immediately. Some had known Harry's parents, some had actually taught Harry's parents at Hogwarts. And nearly all of them were willing to give their time to Harry and his friends for free. It was far better than Hermione could have ever hoped for, because only some of the teachers admitted they would have had any interest in teaching her alone.

Through all of the arrangements, Hermione had firmly listed only three students, with Dean as a tentative fourth. Though he had suggested that Luna leave school, and gave every sign of wanting to be included, Hermione felt it would be wrong of her to just assume. She and Dean hadn't had much time to date with everything that was going on, but Dean had made excellent use of the limited resources, and Hermione was impressed. Still, she was very aware that their relationship was very young and new, and if there was ever a good time to end it, it would be before it could get too serious. But she did not think that Dean would break up with her, even if he was considering it.

When Dean realized what she was up to, he didn't get mad. Dean rarely got mad. He was always cool: either cool and funny, or cool and silent. The latter was a sure sign that he wasn't pleased, and that was what he got when Professor McGonagall asked for a definite answer on if he'd be returning next year. Hermione had said she'd take care of it, so that was a clear sign that she hadn't wanted to speak for him.

Hermione felt trapped. She liked Dean, so much that she felt it was a lot more than simple like. But she also knew that her "married with child" status had already inconvenienced Dean enough. If he wanted to abandon her, she wouldn't have blamed him, though she would have missed him terribly. She explained all of this to him the best she could, and as usual, Dean didn't get mad.

"Hermione," he said calmly when she was done, "you're the most brilliant witch I know. You must have a hundred different plans for your future, right?"

"Yes," Hermione said warily.

"Close your eyes, and tell me about your most ideal future."

"Harry and Luna are living together," Hermione said at once. "Hopefully, they've each found someone willing to accept that arrangement, but even if not, they're happy just being close. We have dinner with them three times a week. Any less and Luna would complain. But-"

"You and I have dinner with them?" Dean interrupted.

Hermione opened her eyes. "Yes?"

"So I'm part of your ideal future." Dean was staring at her closely.

Hermione blushed. "Yes," she whispered.

"Are you wearing my ring?"

Hermione blushed even more, but nodded.

"Then don't you agree that two years apart is a bit much at this point in our relationship? Probably should have included me in your plans to leave school, then."

"I didn't want to assume," Hermione murmured.

"You didn't want to assume that I'd want to be with you?" Dean asked. "Forgive me, Hermione, but that's the dumbest thing you've ever said to me."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said softly.

"Don't be. Just be glad that I care about your weird kid, too."

Hermione frowned at him. "What about your family? Won't they be upset?"

Dean laughed. "Are you kidding? I wrote my mum about you ages ago. When she found out I was dating the smartest witch in our year, she wrote back at once. Told me not to screw it up, and to do whatever it takes to keep you. I assure you, if that means finishing my education a little awkwardly, she'll get over it. But I do think she'll insist on grandkids eventually, so be aware of that."

"And are you going to insist on them?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Hard to say. I like the idea of having you all to myself. But it's also hard to say no to the idea of little girl with my sparkling eyes and your vibrant hair."

"Very smooth," Hermione commented. "But your eyes don't sparkle."

"They will when we're trying to make that little girl, trust me."

* * *

 _Years Later_

There were far worse ways to wake up, but Hermione found herself greeted by three ways that in no way caused her to believe that the day was off to a good start.

First, there was a Ministry owl pecking at her window, and on one of the few days a year that Dean had talked her into taking the day off from work.

Second, though his side of the bed was warm enough, Dean was certainly not in it.

Finally, she could hear Dean somewhere in the house, talking softly so as not to wake her. She might have considered this sweet, except for the fact that she could also hear a distinctly feminine voice responding at the same volume.

Deciding to deal with what she hoped was the smallest annoyance first, Hermione grabbed her wand, paused to focus her thoughts, and then executed a complicated swish that caused a section of the window to vanish, allowing the owl in.

"This is supposed to be my day off," Hermione pointed out.

The owl stared at her, uncaring, as it lifted its leg and waited for her to take the message it was holding. It made no move to leave once she had the message, clearly having been instructed to wait for a response. The message was about what Hermione had feared: her boss begging her to come in, since she routinely worked at the pace of about any three or four other people in her office combined.

Hermione was not feeling sympathetic. She simply printed in large letters across the back of the message: **DAY OFF MEANS THE WHOLE DAY**. Once the owl flew off with the message clutched in its beak, Hermione restored the window.

Then she threw a nearby shoe at the bedroom door.

Dean appeared roughly six seconds later. He started to speak, then caught sight of Hermione pointing her wand at him and thought better of it.

"Who is out there?" Hermione demanded.

"Our girl," Dean replied. "We were trying to be quiet."

Hermione relaxed slightly. "Why didn't she come in and say hello? I can think of plenty of times when she crawled into bed with us as a greeting."

Dean winced. "Well, about that. She didn't exactly come to see you."

Hermione frowned.

"Oh, don't take it that way, luv. She's just afraid you'll be disappointed. Daddy Dean is far more understanding, you know."

"What's she done?"

"That's really not the attitude we were-"

"What's she done?" Hermione repeated. "And am I going to need to take another day off to deal with it?"

Dean shook his head. "I wouldn't bother, unless you've got a few months of vacation time to burn. This is less of something you can fix, and more of a 'the way things will be from now on' sort of thing. Now, if you promise me that you can remain calm, why don't we go and see her?"

Hermione was tempted to remind him that this was their house, and other people in it should have to come and see them, not the other way around. Instead, she threw on a bathrobe and followed him into the kitchen, where Luna was quietly sipping something with a curious odor that smelled nothing like tea. Also, she was rather bloated. At least, Hermione assumed so until she realized where the bloating was focused, and then her eyes widened in shock.

"Surprise!" Dean yelled awkwardly, adding an uneasy laugh for flavor.

"Luna... you're pregnant?" Hermione gasped. Then her face fell. "And you didn't want to tell me?"

"Of course I wanted to," Luna replied. "But I also wanted you to be happy for me, and I wasn't sure you would be."

"Harry wasn't happy?" Hermione guessed.

Luna pouted. "He said he was going to put the Cruciatus Curse on Ronald."

"Oh, dear." Hermione shook her head and gently kissed Luna's cheek. "Well, I can promise that I won't do that, but I might be a bit frosty around him. Frankly, I doubt he'll notice much difference." For some reason, she and Ron always managed to find something to bicker about, and she was usually annoyed with him over something. Hermione suspected and hoped that it was the usual problem of a parent being unable to trust their daughter's boyfriend, rather than the idea that she simply didn't like Ron very much. Because it definitely looked like he was about to become a permanent fixture in their family, especially if Harry had his way. The threats of what would happen to Ron if he failed to marry Luna would surely come after the cursing.

That last idea brought a frown to Hermione's face. "Luna, Ron is planning to marry you, isn't he?"

"We've talked about it many times," Luna said, apparently unconcerned. "The first time was right after I Stunned Cho."

"What?!" Hermione cried. "You barely even knew each other then!"

"I don't think he was serious at the time. He picked me up and shouted in my ear, 'I could marry you, Loony!' He seemed serious the other times, though."

Hermione sighed. "And can I ask how long you two have been intimate? At least, in the way that lead to pregnancy?" She couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed that Luna hadn't told her the day that first happened, but then, it was private, and she wasn't legally Luna's mother.

"I first decided I wanted it after-" Luna began.

"It was _your_ idea?" Dean cut in before Hermione could. "Not Ron's?"

"Oh, no. He was ever so surprised, but once I convinced him, he quickly agreed-"

Dean snorted. "I bet he did."

Luna stared at him. "You're being rude, Daddy Dean."

"Luna, Ron will just have to expect a little rudeness from me for the time being. And even that will be better than what he gets from Harry."

Luna sighed. "Honestly. Is Daddy the only one that's happy for us? He was thrilled to find out about his grandchild."

Dean and Hermione shared a look. Xenophilius Lovegood had never really been what they considered to be a major source of reasonable thinking, and this latest reaction only further confirmed it. Hermione was certain that even Molly Weasley's desire for grandchildren would take a hit when she heard how this one came about.

"It's not that we aren't happy for you, Luna," Hermione replied. "But even you have to agree that Ron hasn't always proven himself to be the most stable person. We've just established that he first proposed to you, joking or otherwise, during a fight that the both of you arguably started. We want you to be careful, especially if Ron isn't going to be."

"What you mean to say is that if I was being careful, I wouldn't be pregnant now, yes?" Luna guessed. "But I was careful. I didn't get pregnant until I wanted to be. And Ronald is more mature than you think. He works with his brothers at their joke shop, and they're in talks to expand the business soon."

"I think what Hermione means is we'd feel a lot more comfortable if we knew for certain that Ron's plans included a long, happy future with you," Dean said, squeezing Luna's shoulder. "I don't think Harry would have reacted so strongly if you'd been engaged for a while before you started to show, for example. I doubt even he is that overprotective of you."

"You might be surprised, but I suppose you're right," Luna sighed. "Maybe I was too impatient, but I get so excited by the thought of having Ronald's baby." She looked at Hermione. "Isn't it the same for you and Daddy Dean? Don't you want to have his baby?"

Hermione blushed and smiled at Dean, who was trying very hard not to shoot a wolfish grin at her while Luna was watching. "Yes, very much so. But we've agreed to wait until the timing is right for us. And in any case, we are married, so it wouldn't be as big an issue for us."

"But if you weren't married, I wouldn't be any less happy for you," Luna said. "I'd want to meet your baby, Hermione. More than anything else."

"That's sweet, Luna, but-"

There was, abruptly, a rather loud sound at the front door. Not of someone knocking, but of someone being shoved rather hard against the door by an angry someone else. This happened twice more before Dean could get the door open, and his reward was his arms full of Ron Weasley, who had just been shoved again.

"Oh, look. It's Ron and Harry," Dean announced loudly. He seemed to be debating whether he wanted to drop Ron, help him stand up straight, or do his own bit of Ron-shoving. Reminding himself that there were ladies present, Dean finally stood Ron up, and dusted off any dust, real or imaginary, that Ron might have been carrying with a great deal of force.

Ron, wisely, did not complain. He was too busy watching Harry, who had entered the house with all the presence of a man-sized, but still very dangerous, thundercloud. And it was very clear that there was only one person present he would have struck.

Whatever Hermione's feelings about Ron, she didn't want Luna to be upset, in general or at Harry specifically. Harry meant well, or usually did. He was doing this out of love, and if he was a bit misguided, that had to be forgiven.

So Hermione pasted a bright smile on her face, breezed past Ron without even looking at him, and gave Harry a huge hug and an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. "Hello, ex-hubby!" she practically sang, grinning at him as she draped her arms around his neck.

Harry gaped at her, torn between confusion and laughter, but finally returned the hug with a small smile. "Hello, ex-wife. You're in a good mood."

"And why shouldn't I be?" Hermione immediately turned on Ron, who jumped back a bit. "I'm sure Ron has some wonderful news to share with us, _doesn't he_?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure!" Ron nodded several times, then hurried over to hug Luna. "Great news, luv! Mum says we can move in at any time!"

This news was met with a stunned silence.

Dean, very subtly, but very firmly, grabbed Harry's wrist to keep him from going for his wand.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Any _other_ news, Ron? Maybe about a _joyous event_ in the near future?"

Ron frowned at her. "Hermione, I thought you were the smart one around here. Surely you can tell that Luna's pregnant without me saying it?"

Dean, very blatantly, and nearly failing, made a wild dive to stop Hermione from going for her wand.

* * *

Ron was teasing. Mostly. He and Luna had a small ceremony in The Burrow's backyard. All of Ron's brothers were in attendance. They took family gatherings, and especially those that would welcome a new girl into the family, very seriously these days.

Luna had spent an entire hour in Ginny's room before the ceremony, looking around and remembering her lost friend. When Molly Weasley had tentatively suggested that Luna sleep there, Luna turned her down at once. Neither of them would have slept well, knowing someone was occupying Ginny's space in the house. Ron did not seem to mind that this meant he had to sleep on the floor while Luna took his bed. Molly supported the marriage, and she even accepted the soon-to-be-born grandbaby, but she wasn't about to allow Ron and Luna in the same bed again until after the ceremony.

Luna insisted on being walked down the aisle three separate times: by her father, by Harry, and by Dean.

Hermione spent most of that day with Rhonda Thomas, Dean's mother. Like Molly, she was very interested in grandchildren, but unlike Molly, she was far more subtle about it. She filled Hermione's head with cute stories of Dean's childhood, came equipped with baby pictures of every one of her children and grandchildren, and never once directly asked Hermione when they would start a family. She was just the kind of grandmother that Hermione thought her own future child would adore.

The reception was winding down when a caramel-colored hand landed on Hermione's shoulder. "Sorry I missed your wedding, Hermione," said a familiar voice in her ear.

Hermione turned, her mouth going dry at the sight that greeted her. It was Padma, who she hadn't seen since her last day at Hogwarts, and hadn't been able to contact in years. Her gaze was drawn immediately to the burn: about the size of a hand, it covered the entirety of Padma's right cheek. Padma's hair had always been long enough where she easily could have styled it to cover the burn, but she had defiantly maintained her plait.

"You... what _happened_?" Hermione gasped, clutching Padma's arm.

"Lucius Malfoy," Padma replied grimly. "Thought I could use a bit of a tan. Anyway, he's rotting in Azkaban now, so it was worth it."

"How did-?" Hermione began to ask, but Padma pressed a finger to her lips.

"I'd love to catch you up later, Hermione. But right now, there is something I need to say to the bride."

Hermione froze, then hurried after Padma. "Wait! How did you even know there was a ceremony today?"

"Luna invited me," Padma said. "No one should even have my address, so she must have gone to considerable trouble to get it. She either really wanted me here, or was daring me to come. I'm not sure I care which. But I did bring a gift best delivered in person."

Ron and Luna were talking to Percy, or rather, Percy was talking at them. Ron had a sort of glazed look in his eyes, and Luna's serene stare was a nice companion to it. However, Luna seemed to sense Padma's presence, and without a word of explanation to Ron or Percy, drifted away from them to meet Padma in the yard.

"I'm glad you decided to come, Padma," Luna said. "Harry won't admit it, but I know he still wishes he'd asked you to leave school with us. Even though you would have said no."

"You're right," Padma agreed. "I would have said no. And I would have appreciated being asked. But we both know that Harry was never going to ask me to leave school for your sake. Or his. Nor should he have, until and unless he'd cleared the air between he and I first. That part is his fault." Padma's eyes narrowed. "I wanted to blame you, but I let you push me away from Harry, and he did the rest. That was my fault. It's taken me years and a lot of heartache to realize this, but I made a mistake. I was trying to get you to accept me, so that Harry would accept me. But if Harry had accepted me first, he wouldn't have let you push me away. It's very clear to me now, what I should have said then, and what I need to say now."

Luna nodded. "I'm listening."

"I know you love Harry and want the best for him. But so do I. And I can give him that, now. I've lost a lot because I was afraid. I'm not anymore. I can be the woman Harry needs. I can even be the stepmother you need. Whether I'm a nice or mean one is up to you, though. By now, you must have noticed that there are very few women who can handle being part of Harry's life, and none that have been able to keep him. There's just you and Hermione. And before either of you, there was Cho and I, and she gave up. I didn't. So at this point, it's likely either me or no one."

"Well reasoned," Luna murmured.

Padma nodded. "So, that's my gift to you: me. A me that's willing to put up with your crap, and not let it scare me away. You may not be worth the headache, but Harry is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find him."

Luna blinked. "In the house, with Daddy Dean, I think."

"Thanks." Padma left without another word.

Luna turned to Hermione, who was watching her anxiously, and smiled. "Well. It's about time."

"You're not upset?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, no. I've suspected all along that Padma would reach this point one day, she's quite clever. But when it comes to matters of the heart, even clever people prefer to take the long way around sometimes. That part I've never really understood. But if it makes her more determined to be with Harry, I can't complain."

"But you don't like her," Hermione said slowly.

"I don't have to, do I? Harry is the one she'll be dating. If she makes him happy, I'll adjust. For him. He certainly did for me. Anyway, you liked Padma, so you're more objective. Do you think she's good for Harry?"

"Yes," Hermione said honestly. "Last time I checked, anyway. But it's been years. I suppose if she's felt that way all this time, she might still be good for him. But there are things they'll need to work out first."

"Maybe you should keep an eye on them. Don't let Harry talk himself out of a good thing. I think he really would stay alone, if he thought I wanted that for him."

Hermione had been starting to think the same thing, but hadn't wanted to say anything to Harry. She knew that he'd always regretted not repairing his relationship with Padma before they lost touch. She wasn't sure if he'd ever changed his mind about not dating her, though.

But when Hermione peeked into the kitchen a few minutes later, she found Harry and Padma standing very close to each other, talking softly and not looking upset at all. She decided to leave them alone, and helped Molly gather up the decorations. When Harry came to help them later on, and insisted on Molly taking a break, he seemed pensive and distracted. Molly sensed what Harry actually wanted and left the two alone.

"Anything wrong?" Hermione asked him.

Harry shook his head. "Not really. Just thinking about some things that Padma told me. She's a retired Hit Witch, that's why she was out of contact for so long. Also where she got that burn, she and Cho were part of the team that caught Lucius Malfoy."

"Cho's a Hit Witch, too?"

"No, Auror. But they do team up sometimes when they're actually supposed to be on vacation." Harry paused and lowered his voice. "Still no leads on Ginny."

Hermione sighed. "I figured."

"Yeah. Well, Padma was a little freaked out that Luna found her, that might be a security risk. Even Parvati didn't know precisely what Padma did for the Ministry, just assumed she was an Unspeakable."

"Are you happy that Padma's here, Harry?"

He paused. "Yes, I really am."

"Even though she still wants you?"

"Yeah. I'm amazed she does, frankly." He smirked. "I mean, _you_ didn't."

Hermione snorted. "Yes, well, you made it _very_ clear there was no attraction on your part, didn't you? Meanwhile, I was very attracted to Dean. And I have to say, Harry, I think you make a better ex-husband than you do a husband. I just hope you won't give Padma cause to feel the same way."

"I don't plan on it. I mean, the burn is quite arousing."

"Is it?"

"When I think of how she got it, and where the burner is now? Definitely."

"I suppose," Hermione said.

Harry grinned. "Oh, don't be jealous, Hermione. You're quite daring in your own way."

She elbowed him. "I'm not jealous! If she can put up with you, good for her. Less headache for me."

"You do realize our kid just married Ron Weasley? That's more headache for _all_ of us, from where I'm standing."

"But we can handle it. I've got Dean, you'll have Padma, and-"

"If worse comes to worse, we can send Ron home with Luna, then go to bed thankful he isn't living with either of us, and try again the next day."

Hermione laughed. "True."

Harry sighed. "We raised a good kid, Hermione."

"Did we?"

"Sure. She could be Ron."

Hermione nearly choked. "Fair point. I do wish she were a bit more like me, but she does keep things interesting."

"You were going to say infuriating, weren't you?"

"I'm sure I will by next week."

* * *

 **The Granger-Potter Group - Score**

 **Unique House Harry: 10**

 **Odd House Hermione: 0**

 **Melty Slytherin: 0**

 **Friendly Ex Bonus: 50**

 **Granger-Potter-Thomas Bonus: 50**

 **Lovegood-Weasley Bonus: 50**

 **Gone Girl Ginny Bonus: 500**

 **Individual Total: 660**

 **Overall Total: 1655 + 660 = 2315**


End file.
